


live to see the end of the world

by lightningb0nes



Category: Sword Art Online
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - SAO Doesn't Suck, Amputation, Angst, BAMF Yuuki Asuna | Asuna, Bisexual Character, Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Death Threats, Eventual Romance, Explicit Language, Friendship, Gaming, Grief/Mourning, Lesbian Character, Mild Gore, Minor Character Death, Multi, Out of Character, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicide, Swordfighting, Trans Character, VRMMORPG, Video Game Mechanics, i took canon characterizations out back and shot them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2019-09-14 16:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 52,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16916052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightningb0nes/pseuds/lightningb0nes
Summary: Kirigaya Kazuto has always felt like he's been waiting for something. When the full version of Sword Art Online is released, he thinks it may have been just the thing he's waited for.He is terribly, apocalyptically, indescribably wrong.





	1. PROLOGUE

**Author's Note:**

> **this is not an incest fic. this is tagged kirito & suguha, not kirito/suguha. i don't write, support, or condone incest. this is not an incest fic.**

_november sixth, 2022_

Kazuto doesn’t remember the last time he was so _excited_ for something. Not even the Beta Test had him like this- bouncing in his seat, hands tapping patterns into the sides of his thighs, eyes trained on the clock. He thinks, maybe, he might understand how Suguha feels before kendo competitions; too much energy to be contained in his body, racing through him like lightning. The minutes tick by, one by one, counting down to the future of video games. With how enthralling the Beta release had been, Kazuto’s sure the final product will captivate him like nothing else has ever managed to.

Which is- embarrassing, sometimes. Kazuto isn’t oblivious, no matter what Suguha insists. Being obsessed with a fantasy world in a video game won’t ever be cool, or endear people to him. He won’t ever be like his sister, confident and brave with her legion of friends, not in the real world, at least. _Maybe that’s what’s so alluring_ _about it_ , Kazuto thinks, eyes flicking to glance at his NerveGear. Because the only person who’s ever told Kazuto that he’s cool was Suguha, and he thinks she might have been joking. But in Sword Art Online, as Kirito, he was- he was something greater than he was ever going to be in this life. His talents turned him into someone strong and fast and lionhearted, and he was reluctant to let that go so easily. It was an easy feeling to fall for.

If he was honest, Aincrad was just an easy world to fall for overall. It had been one of the most beautiful places Kazuto had ever seen, even in the Beta release- green and lush and free from pollution. One hundred floors of carefully rendered cities and forests and dungeons, a floating castle built for escaping the real world. And wasn’t that what everyone dreamed of? Suguha teased him for his love of VR, but he had seen her copies of _Sailor Moon_ and _Fairy Tail_ tucked away on her shelf, hidden behind kendo trophies and framed pictures of her and her friends. She had fallen in love with the magic of other worlds just like he had found himself wondering just what holding a real sword would be like.

Maybe they weren’t so different after all.

The tick of his clock draws Kazuto from his thoughts, eyes leaving his NerveGear to gaze once more at the clock on his desk. The house is eerily quiet around him. There’s none of his mother’s music playing in the kitchen, none of his father’s booming laugh or Suguha chatting to her friends on her phone. It’s just Kazuto in his room, waiting.

“You always look like you’re waiting for someone,” his mother had told him once. “Like any moment your destiny will come walking around the corner, and you won’t even be surprised, because you’ve been waiting for it this whole time.”

_Maybe this is what I was waiting for_ , Kazuto thinks, plugging the NerveGear in. Another minute ticks by. _Maybe this is my missing piece_ , he wonders, sliding the helmet into place. It cradles his skull, the visor darkening his vision.

The notification he had set chimes, loud and bright and clear, and Kazuto takes a deep breath and relaxes his hands at his sides, closing his eyes.

“Link start,” he says, an offering, a demand, a prayer. The world goes dark around him, and for a moment, there’s nothing. Then his world explodes into brightness, color and noise surrounding him, his own personal big bang. The familiar kanji in front of him prompts a login, and then offers character creation. Kazuto- no, Kirito, now- allows himself a grin. The customization features had been locked during the Beta, leaving dozens of defaults running around, only distinguishable by their equipment.

Now, he sees that same default face reflected in a mirror, and he pulls a face at it. It pulls a face back. There’s dozens of sliders and selection boxes floating around him, and with another glance at the default avatar, he sets to work. It takes him forty-five minutes to be satisfied with his new reflection, poking and prodding at his face as he looks the new Kirito over. Tall and lithe, built like a blade, the man staring at Kirito in the mirror looks the part of the hero. Dark, chin-length hair frames a pale face and sharp cheekbones. Most of the coloring is as true to life as he could manage, but he gave Kirito’s angular eyes a deep dark violet color.

Kirito gives his reflection a victorious grin and selects the _continue,_ once again finding darkness fading into place around him. Rather than the feeling of being swallowed by a void, it feels almost natural, like closing his eyes to fall asleep. He hears the world come into existence first- birdsong and the noises of a busy marketplace, soundtracked by a group of bards stumming a lively tune somewhere in the distance. He can feel the weight of his scabbard, the breeze on his face, the sun-warmed cobblestones under his feet. He lets himself stand there for a moment, feeling and hearing and even smelling the world of Aincrad settling around him.

And then he opens his eyes, and the sight he sees takes his breath away. The world is cut in crystal clear focus around him, sunlight painting the main square he stands in a vibrant array of bright colors. Other beginning players are milling about, drinking in the sight of the virtual world and chatting to one another. _Welcome to Aincrad!_ pops up on Kirito’s HUD, health and level bar quickly following and hovering in the corner of his vision. He winces at how low it is- going from his Beta character back to level one is a little painful. Cursors pop up around the other avatars closest to him, their Avatar names showing underneath.

Kirito takes a first step, slowly, and then another, and then he’s sprinting down the street, revelling in the way the wind whips through his hair and the way gravity pulls at his feet. He knows, somewhere inside of him, that it’s not real- he’s still laying in his bed at home, playing a video game. Kazuto knows this, but Kirito- Kirito doesn’t care. He lets the Town of Beginnings swallow him up, falling heart-first back into Aincrad.

**⚔**

Akihiko Kayaba is so very, very tired. It’s been months, years, even since he has well and truly felt alive, he thinks. The world is so aimless outside of his office and computer, outside of Sword Art Online. None of the rest of the world mattered- just this project, the code that had taken up his life. A double check ensures that he will be kept alive, even if no one comes for him- the soft beeping of the machines echoes; a fitting soundtrack for this moment.

He slips the NerveGear over his head, lays back in his bed, and quietly, voice barely more than a whisper, seals the fate of himself and 10,000 other people.

“Link start,” Akihiko Kayaba says, alone in the dark, and the death game begins.

**⚔**

Being a Beta Tester is not without his perks, Kirito realizes the first time he sees an actual mob forming around an Information NPC. He already knows where his favorite NPC-run armory and weapons shops are, where there’s an abundance of low-level monsters and basic quests to help give him a leg up.

Of course, there’s drawbacks, too. He misses his sword, his good armor and store of teleportation crystals and healing items he had stocked up on, but there’s little to be done aside from leveling up and earning them back. It wouldn't be fair, otherwise, mixing high-level floor clearers with new players right at the start. But at a surface level, this is still the same Aincrad that Kirito fell in love with, just without the bugs and more functional. He’s sure the bosses will have changed, too, for challenge’s sake.

Being able to stroll out of the Town of Beginnings with confidence is certainly reassuring, though. Much to Kirito’s amusement he gains a follower halfway into his walk, a player with bright red hair and a complete lack of subtlety. When Kirito arrives at the field he was looking for, he sidesteps the first wild boar that charges him and lets it crash into his stalker.

The other man yelps and dives out of the way, landing with a thud in the dirt. “That was so freakin’ rude,” he calls, voice muffled on account of his face still being pressed into the ground.

“So is following people around!” Kirito calls back, trying not to laugh. The stranger gives Kirito a big grin as he climbs back to his feet. Kirito has his sword out, but the other man doesn’t seem worried about the fact that they’re in a PvP zone at all.

“You looked like you knew where you were going, so I figured you must be a Beta tester or something! Thought I could get some cool loot if I followed you,” the stranger explains, entirely unabashed. Kirito pauses for a moment, considering, before sheathing his sword and offering his hand.

“I’m Kirito,” he says, lips tilting up into a grin.

“Klein!” the stranger introduces, beaming. “So, you’re not mad about me trying to hijack your grinding spot?”

Kirito shrugs, turning to look at the two-dozen or so wild boars roaming. “Nah,” he says eventually. “More mad at myself for being so obvious.”

Klein pats his back with a chuckle. “You’re too sure of your movements,” he says. “Everyone else looks like they can’t believe they’re really walking, but you just broke into a run, sure as anything. It was kinda cool, actually.”

Kirito blinks at him. “Huh,” he says softly, “never thought that would work as a tell.” He looks at his feet, at the soft grass and dirt around him. “Well, anyways, are we gonna kill some pigs or what?” he asks, reaching for his sword once more.

Klein draws his own sword, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Let’s fuck some shit up,” he says in agreement, spinning his katana like a baton.

Despite his bravado and showboating, though, it turns out that Klein is actually kind of terrible at the game. “You need to calm down!” Kirito yells at him, trying not to laugh as Klein shrieks and dives out of the way of another boar. “It’s just a game! They can’t actually hurt you!”

“You’re not the one being chased!” Klein hollers back, swinging his sword uselessly at the enemy.

Kirito heaves a sigh and reaches for one of the small rocks littering the field, activating one of the basic skills and tossing the stone at the boar. It paints a cool blue trail of light through the air before smacking into the beast’s hindquarters, leaving an angry red mark. The boar squeals, sounding remarkably like Klein, turning to face it’s new assailant. Kirito hefts his own sword in response, waiting for the familiar hum of the activating sword skill.

The boar charges, and Kirito rushes forwards to meet it, bringing his sword down in a deadly arc of light, shining purple as it strikes across the boar’s flesh. The enemy dissolves into shimmering fragments of light, the EXP window appearing in front of Kirito as he sheaths his sword once more.

He can’t help but flush at Klein’s unguardedly impressed expression, ducking his head. “See? Not too hard,” he says quietly, and Klein’s boisterous laughter fills the field.

“Kirito, are you kidding? That was crazy cool! Like something out of a movie!” he says, jogging over to where Kirito stands. “You have got to show me how to do that!”

“Well, I mean, you’re using a completely different type of sword, so you’ll have to check your menu to see what Sword Skills you have access to,” Kirito explains, opening his own menu with a flick of his wrist. “You’re using a katana, and I’m using a longsword, so they have different techniques and skills, see?”

Klein leans over Kirito’s shoulder, squinting at the list. “But you used one on that rock, right? That’s what the light means. Can I do that?”

Kirito nods, doing his best not to focus on just how close to him Klein is. _It’s just VR_ , he thinks, doing his best to steady himself. “These, uh, these are the basic skills that everyone starts with,” he says, highlighting the _Horizontal_ skill. “They’re less powerful than, um, other skills, though.”

Klein groans, taking a step back as Kirito gives a silent exhale of relief. “Man, why does it have to be so complicated?” The red-head complains, tone rising to a whine. Kirito rolls his eyes good naturedly, stretching his arms above his head.

“You couldn’t have thought the most anticipated game in history was going to be _easy_ ,” he teases, laughing as Klein sticks his tongue out in response.

“It’s getting kind of late,” Klein says with a glance at Aincrad’s horizon, the world around them shining with the soft orange glow of the simulated sunset. “I ordered a pizza for tonight, so I should probably head out, but we should totally party up sometime! My other friends would love to meet you, dude.”

Kirito looks reproachfully at the sunset before giving Klein his best smile. “I should log off too, before my sister comes and yanks my NerveGear right off of my head,” he jokes, carefully avoiding the subject of partying up while he opens his menu. He clicks through to where the logout button has always been, only to find a blank button next to the small door icon.

Uncertainty creeps through him as he turns to look at Klein, who’s frowning at his own menu, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I can’t log out,” Kirito blurts, voice pitched embarrassingly high with anxiety. He’d be more embarrassed if Klein didn’t look just as panicked as he sounds, the other man’s eyes widening at Kirito’s revelation.

A dozen thoughts run through his head- calling a game master, asking other players, anything to figure out why they can’t log out; but before he can voice any of his ideas, the world starts fading to black around him. Kirito reaches for Klein in his panic, but his fingers slide through the man’s sleeve as if he were made of smoke. Klein’s wide, frightened eyes are the very last thing Kirito sees before the world around him goes completely dark.


	2. I: THE DEATH GAME

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “My world is now yours,” Akihiko Kayaba says, arms spread out, and it’s Kirito’s favorite daydream turned worst nightmare. Pure, unfiltered hatred blossoms in his chest as he looks up at Akihiko, the mocking grin of the skeleton staring back as he explains their fates.
> 
> “The only way to escape is to beat the game,” he continues, and a true silence falls across the crowd. There’s no noise, no movement. “Clear all one hundred levels, and you’ll be freed,” he tells them, a threat and a promise.

_ november sixth, 2022 _

Aincrad comes into focus again as the central plaza of the Town of Beginnings. The orange glow of the sunset is gone, replaced by the darkness of an eerie red sky, with hundreds- no, thousands of players packed into the plaza. Some are curious and confused, others frightened and on-edge as they mill about, voicing theories about what’s happening. 

When he can feel his feet on the ground again, feel the world around him, Kirito reflexively reaches for Klein’s hand, the same way he reaches for Suguha’s during late night horror-movies and yearly haunted houses. He’s about to flinch away, mortified, when Klein grips his hand back, the other man pale and afraid. 

“I don’t want to get seperated,” he explains quietly, and Kirito nods, not trusting his voice. 

More and more players materialize around them, crowding the Plaza even further. “This must be every player online,” Klein whispers, stepping away from an angry-looking man with a huge sword. Kirito thinks about the lack of the logout button, about the anticipation for this game, and horror dawns on him.

“This might be every SAO player there  _ is _ ,” he says, voice hollow, and Klein’s grip on his hand tightens. 

Eventually, players stop appearing, and a single blinking message appears in the sky- a red hexagon, the same as the error message, but with a single, simple word printed on it in bold text.  **WELCOME,** it reads, blinking in place as fifteen thousand pairs of eyes look upwards to stare at it. One by one, more of the hexagons appear, all bearing the same message as they form an interlocking barrier over the plaza, stretching across the sky. All of the players are silent, all eyes focused on the haze of red above them. 

“Is that… blood?” Kirito mumbles, rising to his tiptoes and squinting to get a better look as thick red fluid begins to drip from the barrier. The silence breaks with panicked cries as the crowd roils with fear, bodies pushing and shoving in the tight space as people fight to leave the square. The blood falls in thick ribbons from above, bending and congealing to make a red-hooded figure, impossibly large above them. 

“Welcome,” it rumbles, voice booming and cutting through the cries of the players, “to the world of Sword Art Online.” The figure pauses, seemingly looking over the crowd. “I assume there will be no need to introduce myself,” it says, and Kirito feels his blood turn to ice. 

“Kayaba,” he breathes, looking up at the avatar he revered as an icon, an aspiration. 

The crowd swells with even more confusion and panic, people yelling questions up at the god-like avatar above them. Kayaba raises his hands in a quick, smooth motion, and silence sweeps across the crowd in mere seconds. 

“Klein?” Kirito tries, but no sound leaves his lips. Panic courses through him, stronger than before, as his free hand flies to his throat, eyes going wide with panic. 

“Much better,” the programmer says, voice neutral as he lowers his hands. “Now, you’re all probably wondering why I’ve brought you here, and why you can’t log out,” he says, and Kirito can  _ feel _ the panic around him, even if he can’t hear it. He can feel his skin crawling with the feeling of so many people around him, and he can’t do anything but stare in horror. “It’s because Sword Art Online was never meant to be a simple game. SAO was always meant to be… a test, I suppose. For humanity, for myself, for the future.” 

Kayaba lifts his head, the hood falling back to reveal a grinning skull looking mockingly down at them. “If you die in AIncrad, you die on Earth,” it says, lips unmoving and eyes dark as it says the most horrifying words Kirito has ever said, all in that dead tone of voice. 

Kirito can feel himself crying. He’s silent, as all of the crowd is, but he can feel horror on his face and tears in his eyes, and he can see mouths moving in horrified screams and more people pushing around, can feel Klein’s grip on his hand, how it would be bone-crushing in the real world. 

“Your NerveGear contains a flaw, put simply, that allows it the ability to microwave your brain, killing you. There are several distinct triggers- your HP hitting zero is only the first. Attempting to remove or unplug the NerveGear without logging out is another- we have already lost around 200 players to well-meaning family members,” Kayaba explains, and all Kirito can think of is Suguha, his sister. Suguha, and the way she’ll pull his headphones out or switch off the TV without warning to get his attention, because it’s never been  _ fatal _ before. 

“My world is now yours,” Akihiko Kayaba says, arms spread out, and it’s Kirito’s favorite daydream turned worst nightmare. Pure, unfiltered hatred blossoms in his chest as he looks up at Akihiko, the mocking grin of the skeleton staring back as he explains their fates. 

“The only way to escape is to beat the game,” he continues, and a true silence falls across the crowd. There’s no noise, no movement. “Clear all one hundred levels, and you’ll be freed,” he tells them, a threat and a promise. Fifteen thousand souls stand in silent disbelief as their world shrinks down to that of a videogame. Kayaba’s skeleton avatar looks down on them with empty, merciless eyes, watching sparks of hope flicker and die. 

“Oh, and one last thing,” he announces, snapping his skeletal fingers, “a gift for you all.” He vanishes from sight as an item materializes in front of Kirito, who catches it on reflex, looking down at it in confusion. He lets out a strangled yelp as his avatar begins to glow, almost losing his grip on the mirror in his hand as he watches the luminescence travel over his skin. He’s reminded of the transformations from the magical girl shows Suguha has her secret love for- his avatar shorters, limbs slimming down, clothes and armor shifting to fit him properly. When the light fades, he looks into the mirror and his own face gazes back- not the artificially constructed face Kirito had been wearing, but Kazuto’s face is staring back, with only a single difference- his eyes are the same shape and size as their real-life counterparts, but they’re still the dark, vibrant violet he had chosen for Kirito, framed by thick black eyelashes. 

Kirito turns to look at Klein and sees a much scruffier man attached to the hand he’s holding. He has short, spiky hair a few shades darker than his avatar’s vibrant red, but he’s wearing the same armor and his eyes are the same warm brown.  _ They stayed the same _ , Kirito thinks,  _ just like mine _ . 

“You’re just a kid!” Klein says, dropping Kirito’s hand like it had turned to hot metal. 

“I’m sixteen,” Kirito snaps back, wrinkling his nose. “It’s not like you’re an old man,” he adds, and Klein shakes his head. 

“Still too old for you,” he says, before slapping a hand over his mouth and turning scarlet. “Uh- I mean- We should go,” he says hurriedly, starting to push Kirito through the crowd as people regain their senses. Kirito catches a glimpse of other players through the rush of people- a girl with short brown hair and freckles standing with a man who looks the same, a boy with silvery hair clutching the hand of a wide-eyed girl dressed in white, and a second of long, strawberry blonde hair whipping behind a girl as she runs through the crowd. 

Kirito shifts his weight, putting his shoulder forwards and his head down, shoving through the crowds. Klein’s hand stays on his scabbard, a reassuring pressure as they wade through the throngs of people together. Eventually, Kirito side steps off of the crowded main road and into an alleyway, pulling Klein alongside him.

“Are you okay?” Is the first thing out of the older man’s mouth once they’re alone. He looks- scared, but there’s a layer of hard determination under the fear in his eyes. 

“No,” Kirito says, and it’s painful to admit. “I’m scared out of my goddamn mind, but- dying isn’t an option,” he says, looking away. “I have to survive.” 

“You could come with me,” Klein offers. “My friends and I are going to make a guild- we could use someone like you.” 

Kirito stares down the alleyway, hands forming fists at his side.  _ I can’t put my life on his shoulders _ , he thinks.  _ I can’t worry about others, or let them worry about me. Not now, not like this _ . “I can’t,” he says aloud, and he hopes Klein can hear the apology in his voice. He turns to leave, but the other man catches his wrist, holding him back.

“At least promise you’ll check in,” Klein pleads, voice soft. “You’re the first friend I made in this world- promise me you’ll let me know that you’re okay.” 

Kirito nods, still not looking the other man in the eye. “I promise,” he says, voice rough. “Don’t- don’t die, Klein.” 

Klein manages a shaking laugh, releasing Kirito’s shoulder. “See you out there,” he says, and Kirito gives him a final nod before taking off at a dead sprint down the alley. Klein watches him as he goes, eyes tracking the dark figure until he vanishes around a corner. 

**⚔**

_ december third, 2022 _

It’s a little weird, Kirito letting himself be outside of the dungeons for such a long stretch of time. He’s so used to the dark, isolated feeling that comes with the first level’s caverns, but the city around him is bright and busy, NPCs and players alike shouting across the marketplace, hawking their wares and offering deals on food and items. It’s a little overwhelming, after spending all of his free time dungeon-crawling and level-grinding. 

_ Like a nerd _ , Suguha’s voice says in his head, and Kirito frowns at himself. 

“Shut up, Suguha,” he mutters, hunching his shoulders as he walks towards the amphitheatre. “I am not a nerd.” 

The number of players clustered in the amphitheatre is quite frankly disappointing, and half of them look like Kirito’s least favorite kind of SAO player- glory hogs. He’d take someone underleveled but cautious over someone more focused on loot then making sure people survive. With their overly gaudy weapons and armor- it’s people playing dress-up heroes and treating the death simulation like the game they all thought it had been. But despite everything, there were still fools who thought dying in Aincrad was as harmless as dying in any other game. 

Kirito couldn’t let himself believe that. It would only prove to make him sloppy and careless, and that wasn’t a risk he could let himself take. He had people waiting for him, after all- his parents and sister were waiting for him. Klein would be waiting for him to check in. Kirito had to make himself believe that the world was waiting for Kazuto Kirigaya to wake up, or else- he’d have nothing to stop himself from losing who he was to Sword Art Online. 

His legs carry him to the upper levels of the amphitheatre, a few seats away from someone wearing a dark brown hood covering their face and body. He felt- alone, mostly, sitting there, which wasn’t exactly an unfamiliar feeling for him, but certainly wasn’t a welcome one. He was one of the only visible solo players around; himself and the cloaked stranger, as well as one or two others scattered about. Everyone else was clumped into little groups. It was fair, he supposed, to not be eager to assist taking on a floor boss when you didn’t have a party backing you up. 

A man with a shock of blue hair is looking over the crowd- doing a headcount, most likely. He looks almost painfully hopeful, despite the lack of attendance. Kirito couldn’t see Klein anywhere, or any of the Fuurinkazan members with their familiar red and yellow headbands; they were probably waiting to get stronger before charging headfirst into boss fights.

It was smart, but a little disheartening, that so few had shown up. That so few believed, even after a month confined to Aincrad’s first floor, that they weren’t ready. Not a single boss had been beat in the past month, not enough ready swords willing to risk their lives for the sake of their escape.

The blue-haired man walks briskly to the center of the amphitheatre, followed closely by a towering black man with a lucerne hammer strapped to his back and a petite blonde woman with a simple short sword and shield. The blonde and blue-haired man both were wearing matching shades of dark blue, a clear sign of alliance, but the tall man was dressed in emerald green.  _ Allies but not a team _ , Kirito thinks as the blue-haired man begins to speak. 

“Thank you, one and all, for joining us!” He calls, lifting a hand to greet his audience. “Each and every one of you brave souls has my gratitude for even attending this meeting,” he continues, and Kirito rolls his eyes at the theatrics. There’s a few scattered bits of applause, though- the blonde mirrors Kirito’s eye roll, even as her partner is obviously bolstered by the response. “My name is Diabel, and this is my lieutenant, Wren, and our friend, Agil, who agreed to help us with this effort!”

The tall man, Agil, raises a hand in brief acknowledgement, while the blonde woman, Wren, gives a curt nod, face cold. “Today, we gather in preparation for the clearing of the first floor!” Diabel announces, and the audience’s cheers only grow louder at the declaration. Kirito can see more people wandering in, drawn by the noise and energy, and a part of him realizes that Diabel’s corny theatrics were intended for- treating a strategy meeting like an event in a game. 

More and more people filter in as Diabel, Wren, and Agil take their turns explaining strategies and teamwork and the Beta Guide, a book Kirito had contributed commentary to. Kirito finds himself caught up in the cheering and the discussion, too- so much so that it’s not until the very end, when they’re telling everyone to get to know their party members, that he’s the only one still sitting alone.

“Fuck,” he hisses, and that’s when his eyes fall on the cloaked stranger from before. A strand of strawberry blonde hair falls forwards from under their hood, and a memory of the first day in Aincrad comes rushing back to him; a glimpse of strawberry blonde hair following a girl as she ducked and wove between panicked people. 

He edges over, trying not to look awkward. “Did you get left out too?” he asks, and bright hazel eyes shine from under the hood as the girl looks up at him. 

“You looked like you had forgotten we were supposed to be partying up,” she says, voice soft. “I was waiting for you, so you wouldn’t be alone.” 

Something in Kirito’s chest tightens at that, at the small kindness, at the familiarity of the phrase-  _ I was waiting for you _ , echoing in his ears as he stares at the hooded girl. “My name is, uh, Kirito,” he manages, offering a hand.

The hooded girl takes it, her handshake firm as she looks him in the eye for the first time. “I’m Asuna,” she introduces, “and it’s a pleasure to meet you, Kirito-kun.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that one dude last chapter: make this an incest fic!! kirito/suguha!!  
> me, an intellectual: shoves the fact that kirito thinks of suguha as his SISTER and that theyre NOT ATTRACTED TO EACH OTHER into this chapter as much as possible
> 
> if you like my writing, and want to support me so i have more time for it, you should check out my [tumblr!](https://lovecorpse.tumblr.com/)


	3. II: TEMPLE OF THE KOBOLD LORD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s something burning in him, something hot and alive and hungry as he follows Asuna into battle, the rest of the party clearing a path for the two of them. The no-daichi slams into his own sword and he pushes back with everything he has, all the strength he can muster. There’s a fierce battle cry rising around them, and it takes Kirito a moment to realize that it’s his and Asuna’s voices crying out, a scream echoing around the temple as they both slam their weapons into Illfang’s hide over and over again.

_ december tenth, 2022 _

The forest they’re having to walk through is sticky and hot, which is well and truly unfair considering that it’s supposed to be  _ December _ . Even as they break for lunch Kirito is scowling from the sensation of sweat dripping down his back, with Asuna looking equally uncomfortable, but firmly refusing to remove her dark hood even as sweat beads on her forehead. Kirito is somewhat surprised when Asuna pulls out the same tough bread Kirito has- he had assumed someone who seemed so soft-spoken and delicate would appreciate better food. But she has the same tough, cheap bread that he does, and without the cream to make it better.

Kirito’s eternally grateful to the  _ Heifer Strikes Back  _ quest for the cream- it makes the cheap rations so much more bearable, and the fact that you can repeat the quest and get more of the items only makes it better. Asuna is scowling down at her bread, so he leans over and offers the bottle to her.

“Wh- cream?” she asks, and he nods. 

“From the-”

“ _ Heifer Strikes Back _ , I know,” she interrupts, looking down at the small bottle in her grip. “I… sold this, I think, to pay for a sword upgrade,” she says, looking up at him. “Why did you keep it?” 

Kirito shrugs and looks away, ears burning. “It tastes good,” he defends, thinking about all the sword upgrades he could have gotten. “It’s- it makes it easier to remind yourself that you’re a person, if you care about what you’re eating,” he adds softly, and Asuna makes a soft noise of understanding.

“...I never thought about it like that,” she admits, putting a dollop of the cream onto her bread and biting it. “You’re right,” she says when she’s done swallowing, turning to look at him. “It is better. Thanks for the tip, Kirito-kun,” she says, and Kirito ducks his head to chew at his own bread. She’s the only person who he’s met so far that insists on using honorifics- it’s a huge giveaway at her location, for one, but it’s also strange to hear in the context of the fantasy world they live in. 

The translator makes everyone sound Japanese to him, a little choppy at times, but overall flawless- and he’s sure it turns his own words to English, or Chinese, or any other number of languages. He’s done his best to stick to internet safety rules, thanks to the sharp voices of Suguha and his mother in the back of his mind, lecturing him about stranger danger and giving away his location, but others have taken the death game as an invitation to tell people everything about themselves. 

He’s embarrassingly enthralled with Asuna, for having only known her a few days, but he guesses it’s probably to do with the fact that a real, pretty, talented girl waited to be in his party, and is talking to him of her own accord. And Kirito wants to be around her, wants to know her better, to be her friend, to be  _ more _ , maybe- but there’s the weight of his life on shoulders, and the weight of Asuna’s own life on her shoulders, and he can’t make time for girls. Not when they haven’t beaten the first floor, yet. 

“I’m glad you like it,” he says, instead of voicing any of these thoughts. He’s rewarded with a small smile before she goes back to her lunch.

The rest of the walk is just as gruelling, and it’s nearly 8pm Aincrad Standard Time by the time they manage to fight their way to the boss room. There’s a pause as people heal themselves, catch their breaths, drink water. The doors are looming above them, dark marble carved with intricate designs. Kirito remembers these doors, remembers how excited everyone had been during the Beta raid, with their laughter and joking as they had swung open. 

It’s somber, now, as the measley force of 200 lines up to take on a boss that could very well kill them. Kirito can feel the tension in his shoulders as they gather into their formation, brain rushing to think of anything and everything that could be useful. 

“Calm down,” Asuna says, gently but firmly. Kirito’s head snaps up to look at her, standing just barely taller than him, still covered by her hood. “I can feel you panicking from here,” she continues, looking down at him with those sharp hazel eyes. “Take a deep breath. Focus. You and I are a team, and we’re going to be fine,” she says, and it’s less of an encouragement and more of a command. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, and she smiles at him again, something fierce in her gaze. 

“Listen up, everyone!” Diabel calls, hands resting on his sword. “I only have one thing to say- let’s win!” Wren offers a sharp nod at his side, and Agil an encouraging fist in the air as a murmur of assent swipes through the raid group. 

The doors creak open, the raid party moving forwards, and Kirito’s hand finds his sword. He almost wishes he had thought to invest in a shield, even if he wasn’t used to one, because there’s real fear crawling down his neck as they move into the darkened room. The doors swing shut behind them with an echoing crash, and the walls illuminate dimly, stained-glass painting pictures of bloody battles and rabid Kobolds tearing soldiers apart. The end of the hall remains dark save for the vague outline of a huge being on a throne. 

“That’s inspiring,” someone mutters behind them as Kirito and Asuna turn to cover the back of the party. Kirito shakes his head, doing his best to focus on what he knows- the people around him, the grip of the sword in his hand, the ground under his feet, not possibilities and maybes. 

Diabel takes another step forwards, and the room  _ truly _ lights up, now, an array of opalescent colors coming to life as Illfang the Kobold Lord roars, leaping down towards the party. The columns of the temple shake as the boss unsheathes his axe, his minions rushing forwards from all sides as Diabel calls for the attack to begin. 

Kirito rushes forwards and knocks back the mace of the sentinel closest to them, yelling “Switch!” on reflex as the creature falls back. 

And then Asuna  _ moves _ , properly for the first time since their meeting, barely more than a blur as her rapier slices through the beast’s armor, dissolving it into a fractals of light. It’s the fastest Kirito’s ever seen someone move, even in SAO, and she’s back at his side in an instant, skidding to a stop.  _ She moves like lightning,  _ he thinks, readying his sword for the next minion. 

It feels like- it feels like victory, fighting next to her, every monster they take down without losing any of their own HP. It feels like he’s winning, like his life isn’t on the line, like the two of them could take down entire dungeons on their own, like this. It’s intoxicating, almost, and Kirito is only broken from the spell by the roar of Illfang behind him.

He knows that roar, and he whips around to stare as the great beast throws aside his axe and shield, reaching for the blade strapped to it’s back. “Let him through!” A voice calls, and Kirito sees Wren clearing the way for Diabel’s charge. 

“They’re not sticking to the plan,” Asuna says beside him, voice laced with concern, and Kirito’s eyes widen in horror as he sees the blade Illfang draws. 

Kirito knows his swords, studied them like his life depended on it, devouring the knowledge the real world has provided, spending his spare time looking through books with the reverence of a devout man. He can point out short swords and sabres, xiphos and jians, scimitars and falchions. He remembers the blade that Illfang’s beta form had, the Talwar that had taken out half of their forces, and he’s seen pictures of the blade it wields now; a dark-metal no-daichi, deadly in it’s size and sharpness. 

“It’s no good!” he screams, but his second call is overridden by another voice cutting through the crowd.

“Don’t listen to the glory-hog, Diabel!” Wren calls, and there’s something sick and twisted in her eyes as Illfang’s blade sweeps down towards Diabel. 

And there’s nothing he can do as the man dissolves into light, vanishing as their forces turn to chaotic panic without their leader. Wren vanishes in the chaos, Agil’s attempts to calm their forces futile without Diabel’s smooth charisma on his side. The label of  _ beta tester _ hangs heavy on his head, because Wren had  _ known _ , had led Diabel into a death trap, had let a party member die for the sake of whatever sick experiment she had been conducting. For a moment, the battle fades around him, and it’s not until the sharp edge of an enemy’s blade catches his arm that he snaps back into attention, fending off the kobold. 

Kirito steps towards Illfang, grip tightening on his sword, and moving like a whisper Asuna falls into place beside him. “I’ll go too,” she says, that same calm determination coming from beneath her hood. 

“Thank you,” he says, with a glance in her direction. “Same strategy?”

“Same strategy,” she agrees. 

And then they’re off, and the monster’s laser-focus aggro switches to them the moment they’re in range. Kirito lets himself fall into the pattern they had used on the smaller kobolds, ducking forwards to knock Illfang off-balance so Asuna can sweep in and deal damage. But Illfang moves faster, and even as he falls back Kirito can see the boss regaining it’s balance as Asuna charges.

“Asuna!” he calls, but she dodges even without his warning, diving and rolling to come up on the monster’s flank and slash at it with her rapier. She loses her hood in the process, long hair coming free around her face, skin tan and freckled and seemingly without flaws.  _ Now is not the time to ogle pretty girls _ ,  _ Kazuto _ , he scolds himself as he darts back into the fray, but his moment of hesitation is enough for Illfang to knock him backwards, directly into Asuna. 

They both tumble to the ground, the shadow of Illfang’s humongous form falling over them, and Kirito’s heart leaps into his throat, panic locking his limbs. It’s Asuna who raises her blade, body leaning over his to protect them both as the blade of the no-daichi hurtles towards them. 

There’s the deafening sound of metal on metal, green sparks flying from a skill as Agil’s hammer slams into the blade, the remains of the raid battle rallying and charging. “We’ll hold it off until you’re back on your feet,” the tall man says, readying the hammer again as he charges the boss once more. 

“We can do this,” Asuna says, pushing herself to her feet. “The strategy isn’t working- once you knock his blade back, don’t retreat, hit him as many times as you can,” she says, and there’s no hesitance in her words, no fear that her strategy won’t work. 

“Right,” Kirito says, steadying himself again. There’s something burning in him, something hot and alive and  _ hungry _ as he follows Asuna into battle, the rest of the party clearing a path for the two of them. The no-daichi slams into his own sword and he pushes back with everything he has, all the strength he can muster. There’s a fierce battle cry rising around them, and it takes Kirito a moment to realize that it’s his and Asuna’s voices crying out, a scream echoing around the temple as they both slam their weapons into Illfang’s hide over and over again. 

The monster dies with an earth-shaking scream, shattering into a thousand pieces of light. The  _ Congratulations! _ banner showers them all in light, their individual EXP boxes going unacknowledged as the remains of the Level One Clearing Party celebrate, cheering themselves hoarse as they hug and commiserate the first true victory of Aincrad. 

Kirito’s own EXP screen tells him his new level, and it has text that reads  _ Final Hit Bonus _ , followed by an item name. The Coat of Midnight is now his, an item he had been so jealous of during the Beta. In the aftermath of the battle, looking at the pointless screen in front of him, Kirito feels- numb, almost. Like his purpose has been served; like he is no longer needed. 

He’s broken from his reverie by the noise of swords clashing once more- Wren stands a few feet away, face wrought in grief but eyes still filled with the madness from before. Asuna stands in between her and Kirito, her own sword drawn, and the realization that Wren had just tried to kill him arcs through him like a bullet wound. 

“HE KILLED DIABEL,” she screams, still looking at him with those dark, twisted eyes as she frames him for what she did. He wants to protest, to defend himself, but every gaze turning on him is painted with something dark and black. “He  _ knew _ about the sword, and he didn’t give him a proper warning! I bet he’s a beta tester who wanted the glory for himself!” 

_ I tried _ , Kirito wants to say,  _ you wouldn’t let me _ hiding on the tip of his tongue, but looking at the crowd around him, drawn from celebration to hatred and uncertainty in such a short time, he knows it’s futile. The same burning hatred he had felt for Akihiko Kayaba bubbles in his chest once more, spilling out of his throat in hysterical laughter that echoes through the dungeon.

“You’re right!” he manages between gasping breaths, still laughing. “You’re right! I could have warned him and I  _ didn’t _ !” he shrieks, the guilt forcing it’s way into his heart as he thinks of the blue-haired commander. His laughter fades, and he straightens himself up, stalking towards Wren. “I’m a Beta tester, alright, and I knew, and I didn’t say anything,” he hisses, and he’s not lying, but he’s not telling the truth, and there’s something dark and mad twisting in his chest now, something black and evil. “It was my fault, is that what you wanted to hear?” 

Wren looks up at him, and he sees the same thing he’s feeling in her eyes as she glares at him, bitter and hateful. Kirito doesn’t wait for her response before turning and walking for the stairs that will lead him to the second level of Aincrad.  _ One step closer _ . There’s a cacophony of shouting and insults, so he stops and faces the crowd, pulling on every villain he’s ever faced in a game, every megalomaniac he’s ever seen on TV, and he gives them his best, most bone-chilling smile. A few flicks of his wrist and the Coat of Midnight falls around his shoulders, and Kirito thinks he must look the part, all dark and cruel. “Actually, you know what, don’t compare those other Beta Testers to me,” he says, and he watches a few people’s eyes widen in what he hopes is recognition, what he hopes might be thanks. “They’re not on my level- I’m something else entirely,” he says viciously.

He hopes that it works. He hopes that for every person who hates him, for every being who thinks of the name  _ Kirito  _ with disgust, that there’s a Beta Tester who escapes this wrath, this animosity. He hopes they know to keep their status to themself, after this, to not let what he’s doing go to waste. 

“Kirito-kun!” A voice calls out, and it’s Asuna, rushing after him. “Kirito,” she repeats quietly, and he realizes that with her body language, it would look to anyone who couldn’t hear like she was scolding him, cursing him out. “You’re an idiot, and a bastard, but you’re brave,” she says quietly. “Know that- no matter what, you have a friend in me, okay? Look after yourself,” she says, and it’s like before- she’s not asking him to, she’s telling him. 

“Your wish is my command,” he sneers, as sarcastic as he can, and she gives him a quick, firm nod before he turns and walks into the darkness above. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uwu.................. this is not the last of wren. also kirito went full dramatic dumbass lol


	4. III: GUILD OF THE BLACK CATS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “But at least we don’t have to be scared alone. So… no matter what, I guess, keep on going. Even if you’re scared. ” She pauses, looking down at him with her big dark eyes. “Get some sleep, Kirito,” she says gently, one hand coming up to ruffle his hair gently.
> 
> “I think you’re braver than I’ll ever be, Sachi,” he says. “Certainly not a coward, at least."

_ april seventeenth, 2023 _

“Here’s to Kirito, for saving our butts in that dungeon!” 

The tavern is busy around them as their glasses clink together, Kirito half-heartedly joining in on the cheer. If he was being honest, the guild he had stumbled across in one of the seventeenth floor dungeons could have taken care of the few mobs themselves. But he had been there, and-

“Um, Kirito? I wanted to thank you again for saving me,” the girl next to him apologizes, bowing her head. In the light, she really doesn’t look much like Suguha at all, except for her chin-length black hair. This girl, Sachi, is shorter, with dark skin and big brown eyes and a softer smile, but in the darkness of the dungeon, all Kirito could see was his sister, flinching backwards from a monster. It had flipped a switch in him that he hadn’t even known existed, and by the time he had realized what he was doing, the monster was nothing more than polygons of light.

That was how he ended up here, in a tavern with a guild toasting glasses of amber-colored cider in his name. “It’s really no big deal, Sachi,” Kirito says, looking down at his glass. “You all should be more careful with what enemies you’re willing to take on- something bad could happen,” he mumbles. 

The leader of the guild, Keita, laughs and slaps Kirito on the back. “We’re level eighteen! How are we supposed to get stronger if we stay away from the good enemies?”

_ By staying alive, _ Kirito thinks sourly, but he gives an unenthusiastic smile anyways. He’ll admit it’s hypocritical of him to judge them for taking risk, considering they’re twenty-six floors into the death game and Kirito is still flying solo. It’s nice, actually, to hang out with a guild that doesn’t hate him on sight; after months of taking off his coat and hiding his player tag to avoid constant heckling and duel requests. Sitting in a tavern with people who are laughing and smiling with him is depressingly unusual, and something Kirito hadn’t realized he had been missing so much. “You should still be careful,” he protests weakly, and Keita just laughs. 

“Pfft, what level are  _ you _ , then, Mr. Wanders around in dungeons alone?” he asks, and the guild laughs. 

Kirito’s eyes drift to the  _ LVL: 40  _ that hovers just next to his health bar. “Only twenty,” he lies, “just a few more than you all. I was there on a lead from a friend.” Which was another half-truth. Argo had taken to literally following him around to get him to do a quest so she could sell the info to someone else. For the sake of the Rat’s business, and his own sanity, he had caved, agreeing to drop from the frontlines to chase down a lead. “I always play solo, though,” he adds, at the incredulous looks from the people around him. 

“You’re kidding,” one of the Black Cats, Tetsuo, says. “You’ve been solo-ing this whole time and you haven’t died? Why haven’t you joined up yet, you absolute madman?” 

Kirito pauses, thinking about the impressive list of guilds he’s blacklisted from on reputation alone. He knows he always has a place with Klein and Fuurinkazan, and if he asked, Asuna would probably argue his case for that newer guild, the Knights of Blood, but… “I guess none of them really caught my eye,” he shrugs. “I’ve never been one to join up with guilds, even before, and none of the clearer guilds really seem my type.” And there’s a freedom to solo-ing he’s reluctant to bid a goodbye to- the only life he is responsible for is his own, just how he’s always liked it. 

“You’re aiming to be a clearer, and you’re still solo?” Keita asks, whistling. “ _ Dude _ .” 

Kirito wonders, idly, if letting them assume things is the same as lying. He’s probably a terrible person either way, so it doesn’t really matter, he supposes, taking another long drink. 

“What if you joined the Black Cats?” Sachi asks quietly, and it takes everything Kirito has not to choke on his drink. The rest of the guild clamours around them at the idea, gather and shouting and cajoling. 

“Become part of the team!”

“Great idea, Sachi!” 

“You’ll fit right in- we are the Black Cats, after all!” 

And he’s struck by a memory of the real world- of his sister, looking up at him with wide eyes and a pleading expression, begging him to come to her kendo match. “Please, Kazuto, for me?” she had asked, and Kirito sees the likeness between Suguha and Sachi again as he fights down an overwhelming wave of homesickness. 

“Gee, don’t look  _ too _ excited,” Keita teases, grinning. “The people have spoken, though- if you want to join us, the position is there.” 

_ You could come with me _ , Klein’s voice whispers in the back of his mind, the offer from all those months ago, in that alleyway.  _ I was waiting for you _ , Asuna says quietly, echoed by Suguha’s plea of  _ Please, Kazuto, for me? _ Their voices repeat and overlap and merge together, drowning his mantra of “my life in my hands, their lives in theirs,” the wall Kirito has surrounded himself with ever since that fateful day in November.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Sachi tells him, “but I think you look kind of lonely, and… you don’t have to be.” 

The wall inside of him crumbles and shatters. “I’d love to,” he says, throat dry, and he’s met with an uproar of cheers and a tight hug from Sachi as Keita opens up the membership offer.

“You need an emblem!” Tetsuo says, grabbing his shoulders. Kirito raises as eyebrow, and Keita points to the left breast of his jacket, mirrored by Sachi tapping the side of her thigh, and Tetsuo, Sasamaru, and Ducker proudly showing off their matching shoulder patches. A black cat stands in front of a round, full moon, feline eyes glinting yellow against the darkness. 

“Maybe on the back of your jacket?” Ducker suggests, met with another clamouring agreement as they push him towards their rented rooms. He officially becomes the sixth member of the Moonlit Black Cats when Sachi finishes stitching their emblem onto the back of his Coat of Midnight- the same coat he won from Illfang’s temple, from Diabel’s blood. 

_ No guts, no glory, _ a part of him thinks as he watches the guild-  _ his  _ guild- get ready for the night, pushing and rolling out bedrolls on the floor of the inn’s room.  _ Shut up _ , Kirito thinks back. 

“It’s kind of weird, being on a team, isn’t it?” He says aloud, grinning as Sachi squeaks from her place behind him. She collects herself impressively fast, moving over and dropping down to sit next to him on the floor. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” She asks, looking out at the others as they playfully bicker. There’s something warm and fond in her expression that makes Kirito’s heart clench in his chest. “Having someone to watch your back,” she adds quietly. “Makes you less afraid of… everything that’s out there, y’know?” 

“It makes me more afraid, honestly,” he tells her, surprising himself with the quiet honesty in his voice. Sachi raises her eyebrows but doesn’t comment, just waiting for him to continue. “I’m- I’m not scared of my own death,” he admits. “I want to survive, because there’s other people who need me, back home, but- I’m not scared of dying. Losing someone? Losing a team, who I was supposed to protect?” He shudders. “I can’t stand any more blood on my hands,” he whispers, thinking about Diabel, about every soul lost to a raid gone wrong or a vicious boss fight, everyone he’s outlived during the months of Sword Art Online. 

“You’re being dumb,” Sachi tells him, surprisingly matter-of-fact for the soft spoken girl. “Being scared for yourself is- it’s fine, it makes sense. I’m terrified, Kirito, so much of a coward that it took weeks for Keita to convince me to leave the town of beginnings, to come out her and do this with them. And be scared for others, sure, but- but if I die, my blood will be on Akihiko Kayaba hands,” she says, voice barely above a whisper. “All of the people who have died at the hands of this game- he’s been the one holding the blade,” she tells him, a tear tracing down her cheek. 

“I’m sorry, Sachi,” Kirito says gently, putting a hand on her shoulder. “I never meant to upset you like this.” 

“We’re all scared,” she replies, scrubbing the tears off of her face and pushing herself up to her feet. “But at least we don’t have to be scared alone. So… no matter what, I guess, keep on going. Even if you’re scared. ” She pauses, looking down at him with her big dark eyes. “Get some sleep, Kirito,” she says gently, one hand coming up to ruffle his hair gently. 

“I think you’re braver than I’ll ever be, Sachi,” he says. “Certainly not a coward, at least,” he continues, and she smiles down at him, something unreadable in her eyes. 

“Goodnight, Kirito,” is all she says, moving away to her own bedroll. 

“Goodnight, Sachi,” he replies, watching her back as she retreats to the darkness of the far side of the room. With a heavy sigh, he turns out his own lantern with a few taps, letting darkness envelop the room; his new teammates outlined in pale silver from the moon outside. 

**⚔**

_ june twenty-ninth, 2023 _

“Spear up, Sachi,” Kirito coaches. “Wait until you feel the skill activate… and now!”

Sachi’s spear stabs through the spider in front of her with a satisfying trail of cyan light streaming after it. The monster disintegrates as the rest of the Black Cats cheer around them, Sachi flushing and dipping into a curtsy at the attention. They’re running a dungeon-crawl Kirito’s done before, a damp cavern filled with spiders and other recurring monsters that honestly give Kirito the heebie-jeebies. He had run the dungeon alone a month or so before he had joined the Black Cats. It’s much more tolerable with a large group, he’ll admit. 

Their torches are still burning bright, and Keita’s announcing their col funds after every monster as they inch towards their twenty-thousand goal for buying a guild house down on the fourth floor.

“Nineteen thousand, eight hundred and eighty six!” He calls as Kirito holds his hand up for a high five. Sachi smacks her palm against his enthusiastically, beaming at him. 

Kirito can still see the girl he had rescued two months ago, in her soft words and careful consideration; the way she still flinches back from bigger monsters and the way her grip on her spear goes white-knuckled. She’s still afraid, but the feeling of victory has the entire party feeling beyond confident, Sachi’s own leaps in strength a good signifier of their winning streak. 

“We’re almost there,” Kirito says, falling back to his spot at the rear of the group. The rest of the guild is just barely beginning to crest level twenty-five, perfect for drawing the aggro of this dungeon’s enemies to the front of their group. Kirito’s own level of forty-three ensures the enemies flee away from the back of the group, making sure nothing gets the drop on them as they push forwards. 

The little forty-three in the corner of his vision is a reminder of the fact that Kirito had yet to come clean to the rest of the guild about his level or status as a clearer. It’s a nagging little guilt in the back of his head, a constant reminder of the first floor boss, of the hatred that still manages to follow him, even now.  _ “It was my fault, is that what you wanted to hear?”  _

“You okay, Kirito?” Sachi asks, falling into step next to him, concern painted across her face. “You’re not worrying again, are you?” 

He gives her his best grin in response, trying to shake the memories from his mind. “I’ll stop worrying about you once we’ve beaten the hundreth boss,” he tells her, and she giggles at him. 

“Yeah, like the Black Cats are going to be the champions of some big final showdown,” Sachi replies, sticking her nose in the air in mock disgust. “I’ll leave the suicide missions to those crazy clearers, thank you very much!” 

He wonders for a brief moment if she would think him suicidal, for all the time he spends on the front lines behind their backs. 

“Final cavern is just up ahead!” Keita yells back, so Sachi wiggles he fingers in a farewell and jogs back to her place at Tetsuo’s side near the front of the group. 

Kirito fends off underlings while Sachi and Tetsuo play as their main offense, everyone else taking turns drawing aggro or sweeping in to defend. Sachi lets out a yelp as one of the giant spider’s legs whips into her, and Kirito can feel his grip on his sword tighten in response as that protective fear rises in him again.  _ She’s fine _ , he thinks, gritting his teeth as he slashes through another spider underling.  _ Focus on watching their backs _ . 

The battle comes to its end with Sachi slamming the point of her spear right through the spider’s largest pair of eyes, looking for all the world like she would fit right in on the front lines. The guild erupts into cheers that echo around the cavern, stamping a drumroll onto the ground as Keita dramatically opens the col count. 

“Twenty thousand, six hundred and four!” He hollers exuberantly, and the Moonlit Black Cats explode into even louder cheers, hollering and dancing around the now-empty cavern. Kirito yelps in surprise as Sachi scoops him up and swings him around, laughing and whooping along with everyone else. 

It’s important, this moment, because it doesn’t feel like the relieved victories on the front lines, or like the small moments of appreciation during his solo questing. They’re something closer to being a respected guild, now, but they’re all filled with the most genuine sort of happiness at their accomplishment, something the world of Aincrad doesn’t offer up easily. They’re going to have a  _ home _ , a base other than the dingy tavern on the eleventh floor, something Kirito hasn’t had in six months.

“I vote we paint the whole thing black,” he says when Sachi lets him down, grinning, and there’s an immediate outpour of arguments and ideas for the decorations of their new base that lasts them all the way back to the eleventh floor. 

They spill into the tavern/inn they’ve been staying at, boisterous and loud and full of laughter, Tetsuo calling for drinks and even quiet, mouse-like Sachi yelling her cheers with the rest of them. A cheer goes up from the locals who see them there time after time after time, who know all about their mission for a guild house and know from their faces what this celebration must mean. 

“A real house!” Sachi exclaims, sticking a fork into her pasta. “WIth clean bathrooms!” She continues, and Kirito bites back his laughter to agree with the younger girl. 

“Clean bathrooms will be nice,” he says, taking a bite of his own meal, and she leans over to rest her head on his shoulder. 

“How do bathrooms get dirty, anyways? It’s a video game! That’s a terrible design choice,” she points out, and Kirito shrugs, still chewing at his potatoes. “It’s a worse feature than this dying thing, honestly,” Sachi says, and Kirito can’t help it, bursting out into laughter. 

“Aw, man,” Tetsuo complains from across the table. “Fatalistic humor, really, Kirito?” 

“It’s how I cope, thanks,” Kirito replies, doing his best to sound dignified with Sachi giggling against his shoulder. The other boy simply grumbles and opens a trade window with Sachi, who gleefully accepts the 20 col he transfers to her.

“Yeah,” she agrees, voice a mockery of being prim and proper. “How else will I escape the crushing reality- oops,  _ virtual _ reality that I live in?” she asks, which just sets off another bout of laughter at the table. 

There’s a warm sense of normality and comfort about the whole scene, with Sachi leaning against him and Tetsuo, Keita, Sasamaru, and Ducker crowded around the table with them.

“I’m really happy that I joined this guild,” he says,open and honest and bright. “Seriously, you guys are… you’re the best friends I’ve ever had, I think,” he continues, and Ducker punches his shoulder as Sachi loops her arms around his waist.   
  
“Aw, you  _ do  _ have emotions!” Sasamaru teases, and as they dissolve into friendly bickering, Kirito can’t help but think that he really did make the right choice. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, knowing full well im gonna kill off sachi when the time comes: maybe she won't die this time!


	5. IV: PHYRRIC VICTORIES

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirito’s world goes white. He says nothing, sees nothing, hears nothing, only feels his heart thundering in his chest and his sword slicing through monsters. When he stumbles back to the town, his health bar is dipping into frantic, urgent, red. 
> 
> He does not care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **CHAPTER WARNING**  
>  this chapter contains a description of suicide. please exercise caution while reading, and if you are worried for yourself but would still like to read the chapter, you can skip from "His mouth is still stretched into a gruesome smile, even with tears running down his cheeks and his voice rough with anger and sorrow." to "He buys a new coat."   
> the suicide in question is referenced after the fact, though, so. heads up. 
> 
> the national suicide prevention lifeline is 1-800-273-8255.

_ july thirtieth, 2023 _

“Come on, Keita will be so surprised if we come back with loot to decorate the house with!” Ducker wheedles, spreading his arms in front of him. “Imagine- riches and gold!” 

“I dunno, man,” Tetsuo replies. “Shouldn’t we just window shop till Keita gets back? Going into a dungeon with no planning sounds like a really bad idea.” 

“I mean… we  _ have  _ gotten stronger,” Sachi points out, turning away from the NPC shop she’s been looking at. “Besides, It would be nice to be able to afford better armor,” she says, looking down at the her armor. It’s the same set she’s been wearing for months, now, and Kirito has to agree. 

“We could run a dungeon we’ve already done? No surprises, that way,” Kirito contributes, but Ducker shakes his head. 

“I got a tip about some  _ sick _ loot hidden away in the labyrinth on floor twenty seven,” he says conspiratorially. “We could swoop in and nab it before anyone ever finds out!” 

“Really?” Sachi asks, eyes wide, and Kirito frowns. Argo usually does her best to keep him updated on rare items, and she’s one of the few info-brokers he really trusts. There’s no way Ducker could have afforded Argo’s prices, so… 

“I think I’m with Tetsuo on this one, actually,” Kirito says, and Sachi, Sasamaru, and Ducker all groan. “It’s too dangerous to go with such little planning- we can tell Keita about your tip and plan to go tomorrow, maybe?” He suggests, rolling his eyes as Ducker sticks his tongue out. “Besides, we should probably, I dunno, check the tip out, first? You know how info brokers can be,” he says, and Ducker just frowns. 

“We don’t  _ have _ to take Kirito,” Sasamaru says slyly, and Ducker’s eyes light up. Sachi’s brow furrows as she looks between them, and Kirito’s a little glad to see doubt at the idea of charging into the  _ labyrinth  _ of one of the highest floors without him.

“A labyrinth is a little different from a regular dungeon, guys…” she protests, but Sasamaru and Ducker continue with their plans. She turns to look at Kirito, still frowning. “Maybe we should go with them…” she says, and Kirito heaves a sigh.

His unamused stare is met by a pair of shit-eating grins. “This is such a dick move,” he informs them, before turning to Tetsuo. “Do you want to come, or do you want to stay here and tell Keita why our entire guild was wiped out in less than a day?” 

Tetsuo sighs. “Might as well come with,” he mumbles, and Ducker and Sasamaru cheer as they begin leading their way to the nearest teleport station to take them to the higher floor. “And he’s right, you two are assholes for this!” he calls after them, but there’s a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. 

“Are you that worried?” Sachi asks, looping her arm through his as they walk after the rest of their guild. “We are getting pretty good.” 

“Floor twenty seven is clearer territory, and most of them average on-” he tosses a quick glance to his own level “- around level thirty nine or so,” he says. He’s above the average, still, in part because he’s been clearing  _ and  _ working with the Black Cats, and in part because of that same level gap from right back at floor one. “Even if the clearers have already done their final sweep of the dungeon, it’s way above what I’d say you guys could handle, especially without Keita.” 

“You guys?” Sachi asks, tugging him to a stop. “What do you mean by ‘ _ you guys’ _ ? You’re only a few levels above us, Kirito, it’s not enough to make that big of a difference.” 

In the end, it’s not even a conscious decision to tell her. “I’m level forty three,” just slips out of his mouth, leaving Sachi staring at him, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. 

“You’re  _ WHAT? _ ” she yells, wincing as players and NPCs alike turn to stare at them. “Bullshit, you’re level forty three,” she hisses, stepping in closer. “That doesn’t make any sense!” 

He opens his menu and flips around the screen so she can see it, watching as her eyes go wide once more. She just looks shocked, thankfully, not shocked and  _ betrayed _ , but he can see a million questions in her eyes as she stares at the innocuous little number. 

“Hey, you guys coming, or what?” Ducker calls back, and there’s a moment where Sachi is staring at him and Kirito is just staring back, but Sachi shakes her head and turns towards their companions. 

“Sorry, got caught up!” She yells, before turning back to Kirito. “You’re explaining this later,” she says, quiet and furious and demanding. All he can do in wake of her gaze is nod helplessly as she walks towards the rest of the guild, feeling for the world like he’s just ruined something he won’t be able to fix. 

He trails after them, the sinking feeling in his stomach telling him it’s going to be a long, long, day. 

**⚔**

“This is still a terrible idea,” he announces, following them through the floor twenty seven labyrinth. It’s a high enough floor that  _ he _ ’s on edge, and he’s one of the highest leveled players in Aincrad. Sachi is leading the charge next to Ducker, still resolutely ignoring him, torn between looking hurt and angry every time he catches her eye. Tetsuo looks worried, and Ducker and Sasamaru are frustratingly relaxed, laughing and joking as they make their way towards the mysterious prize. 

“Don’t be such a buzzkill, Kirito!” Sasamaru calls back, and Kirito just scowls at his back. 

He can’t leave them- if they didn’t come back, he’d never forgive himself. But he  _ hates _ this, this burning anxiety in the back of his throat, clogging everything he wants to say. He wants to tell them all the truth, ask them to turn back,  _ tell  _ them to turn back, but it’s all he can do to stay by their sides. 

“Aaaand, this is the door!” Ducker announces with a grand gesture. It’s just a blank piece of the wall, as far as Kirito can tell, but he’s heard Argo’s speech about hidden doors and how he’s too uncreative to find them before. Ducker presses his fingers along the rock, searching for something invisible to the naked eye but apparently findable to the thief. 

The door slides open, and there’s nothing but a single treasure chest sitting in the center of the room.The next few seconds happen very, very slowly. 

Sasamaru, Ducker, Tetsuo, and Sachi walk into the room. Kirito’s feet carry him after them, each step seeming like it takes him a million years; every one of his nerves is screaming  _ traptraptrap  _ but he is powerless to stop himself. 

The door slides shut behind them, inching closed as Kirito leaps for it, trying to stop it’s path from locking them in the room. It thuds closed just shy of his fingers, and it seems like it takes a millenium for his hand to reach his sword. The room lights up red around him, and all Kirito can hear is his heartbeat thudding in his ears as he watches Ducker’s teleport crystal fail. 

A Granite Elemental stumbles forwards first, followed closely by a Dark Dwarf Miner. Then another of each, more and more spawning around the edges of the room and forcing them in towards the damned treasure chest. Half of them don’t have shields, aren’t built for this sort of situation. He hears Tetsuo cry out, and then Sasamaru, violent red light blooming from his friends bodies as pickaxes and clubs slam into them. 

_ They can’t feel real pain. You can’t feel real pain. _

Sasamaru goes down first, quickly followed by Tetsuo. Ducker is looking at him when he dies, eyes wide and pleading, and Kirito feels something inside of himself break. 

He’s too slow to stop the pickaxe that punches it’s way through Sachi’s chest. There’s a brutal red light around it, too smooth and perfect to feel real, but she stumbles forwards, looking down at the protruding point with horror in her eyes. “It’s not your fault,” she says, voice small as she looks at him. “This isn’t your fault.” 

_ “All of the people who have died at the hands of this game- he’s been the one holding the blade.” _

Sachi closes her eyes, looking all the world like an angel with red spilling from her chest. She dies with her eyes closed and a small smile pulling at her lips, like a saint; like a martyr, like the most holy of all women. Like his best friend, shattering into a hundred fragments of light. Like his best friend, who he hadn't gotten to apologize to for lying. Like his best friend, brain fried by a machine meant to be a game. 

Kirito’s world goes white. He says nothing, sees nothing, hears nothing, only feels his heart thundering in his chest and his sword slicing through monsters. When he stumbles back to the town, his health bar is dipping into frantic, urgent, red. He does not care. It feels as if the ground won’t stay still under his feet, won’t let him take a steady step forwards, knowing that his friends are not behind him. The world begins to crumble for Kazuto Kirigaya, because that’s who he’s been playing at as a member of the Black Cats. 

God, he doesn’t know what he’s going to tell Keita. It’s been- it’s been hours, minutes, days, seconds, Kirito doesn’t  _ know _ , because all he can think about is how his lungs won’t work right and how Sachi closed her eyes to die. He doesn’t know how long it’s been when Keita finds him, huddled against the edge of the world and shaking, health bar in the red. 

Keita’s eyes go wide and he presses a health potion against Kirito’s mouth. Kirito swallows, watches his health bar inch up to green, but he doesn’t taste anything. 

“Keita,” he says, voice thin and full of sorrow. “Keita, I’m so sorry.” 

And Keita doesn’t understand, keeps looking at him like he’s searching for something Kirito knows he won’t find. “Kirito, where are the others? I- I can’t find them on my friends list, or the guild tab,” Keita tells him, blind to the possibility of their worst nightmare coming true. “Kirito, why aren’t they with you?”

“I’m so sorry,” Kirito echoes, a record stuck on repeat. 

Keita does not go down in white blankness and shaking, like Kirito did. Keita does not go down with closed eyes and a soft smile, like Sachi had. Keita understands Kirito’s apologies, and it hits him all at once; a mad sort of grief forces rigidity into his bones and a smile like an open wound across his face. “You’re wrong,” he says. “You- you couldn’t have survived without them. You have to be wrong.” 

“I’m level forty three,” Kirito replies, shaking so badly that his knees knock together and his scabbard rattles against his back.  _ Forty four, _ he corrects internally, after a trap ridden room in a labyrinth. “I swear, I tried to save them.” 

“YOU SHOULD HAVE TRIED HARDER,” Keita roars, and Kirito flinches back, knocking into the short wall that separates them from the edge of Aincrad. “You let them die! You let our friends die, Kirito!” His mouth is still stretched into a gruesome smile, even with tears running down his cheeks and his voice rough with anger and sorrow. 

Keita’s hands grip the wall next to them, the edge of Aincrad. There’s nothing but clouds and void beyond the wall, empty air. “There’s no point, anymore,” Keita whispers, a moment of clarity as his fingers dig into the stone. “If you’re smart, you’ll follow me.” 

There’s no moment of standing on the edge, no time to talk his friend down, no swan dive into oblivion. Keita lifts one foot onto the wall and shoves himself over in a violent, vicious motion. Kirito misses the back of his shirt by seconds. 

A notification tells him a guild cannot exist with a single player, and as the last remaining member of the Moonlit Black Cats, he has inherited the group’s remaining col funds and shared items. Kirito thinks about Diabel, thinks about Sasamaru, Tetsuo, Ducker, Sachi. He thinks about Keita, falling through the air.  _ If you’re smart, you’ll follow me _ . 

He takes off his long, dark coat, the coat won from blood and sacrifice, and he holds it in his hands. He runs his fingers over the embroidered patch Sachi had lovingly sewn into place.  _ If you’re smart, you’ll follow me _ . 

He drops the Coat of Midnight off the edge of the world, and he sends the boy he had been with it. 

**⚔**

He buys a new coat. He buys himself new armor, new weapons, and he does his best to scrub himself clean of the memories. He tries not to think about how when you, die, your personal funds are added to the guild’s treasury, and he tries not to think about where the col he’s using came from. He fails. 

He tries not to think about going back to that ledge, about following Keita and the coat down, down, down. He fails. 

“I’m sorry,” he says out loud, staring at the ceiling of his rented room. He doesn’t know who he’s apologizing to. 

He does not sleep. 

**⚔**

_ december twenty-third, 2023 _

“I’m not letting you kill yourself for this,” Argo hisses, half-concealed by the shadows of the alley they’re in, eyes narrowed. “Even with an item like this, they’re  _ dead _ , Kirito, and have been for  _ four months _ ,” she spits. 

“Tell me where the event boss will be, Argo.” It’s quiet, hoarse, an echo of how he used to speak. 

The Rat seethes. “No means no, asshole. Don’t make me set Asuna and Klein on you, Kiri-bou. I will if I have to.” 

Kirito rolls his shoulders. “You know as well as I do that they aren’t my keepers,” he says. 

“No, moron, they’re your  _ friends _ ,” Argo shakes her head, dislodging the snow that’s settled there. “So am I, for that matter, and friends don’t let friends go on suicide missions!” 

They’re on one of the lower floors, secluded in their alleyway like they always are when talking about secrets and lies. Kirito can see the ledge out of the corner of his eye, a higher wall, but still the edge of Aincrad, lower down, closer to the clouds.  _ You’ll follow me _ rings in his head like a promise. 

“Please, Argo. I need to do this.” 

“Take Klein! Hell, take  _ me _ , Kiri-bou! Don’t do this alone!” Argo hisses, stepping closer to him. He looks away, bangs falling in his face, white snowflakes stark against the dark locks. “Promise to take- take anyone with you, Kirito, and I’ll tell you everything,” she wheedles. 

His fists clench at his sides. “I can’t put them in danger.” 

Argo is glaring, sharp and cutting, but she sighs. “It’s floor thirty-five, the Forest of Wandering.” She pauses, looking up at him, eyes filled with something like pity. “You’re my best customer. If you die, I’ll kill you.” 

“Thank you, Argo,” he whispers, refusing to look her in the eye as he turns and walks out of their alleyway, vanishing into the darkness to head for floor thirty-five. He has a fir tree to find, after all. 

“I’m sending Klein after you!” Argo yells after his retreating form. 

_ My life in my hands, their lives in theirs _ , he thinks in reply. His heart clenches in his chest as he tries to force cruelty through it, begging himself to be as cold as he wishes he was. His throat feels tight at the thought of Klein dying. 

The victory of getting the information out of Argo feels empty, cold, meaningless. 

He does his best to ignore it. He fails.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, so, early update because i'm gonna be hella busy this weekend. this chapter is sad and honestly kinda sucked to write, but i promise next chapter will be more lighthearted.


	6. V: THE NEW YEAR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He can almost see Tetsuo whirling Ducker around on the dance floor, feel Sachi’s grip on the crook of his arm as they chat. He doesn’t tell Klein about Keita’s two left feet, about Sasamaru’s love of fancy finger food, about each and every reason the Black Cats deserved to be here over him. “It’s… It’s a nice party.”
> 
> He’d like to have one night where it doesn’t feel like the world is ending all over again.

_ december thirty-first, 2023 _

The idea that even in a death game, even trapped as they are, the idea of exclusive parties has survived, is quite frankly one of the weirdest things about existing in SAO. If not for the fact that Asuna had insisted he come, and meet her there, Kirito wouldn’t have shown up at all- clearer exclusivity drives him crazy on the best of days. 

He feels weird, dressed in a plain long-sleeved shirt and pants. His armor is all carefully inventoried, as are his swords, but without them equipped it’s like he’s missing a limb. He’s so unfathomably used to such horrible things, used to death and blood and throwing himself into danger at the drop of a hat; but going to a party with what he could call his  _ coworkers _ still makes him so immensely uncomfortable. 

“I can’t believe you actually came,” Klein says from next to him, dressed to the nines in a red button down, signature headband still wrapped around his head. He looks fantastic, if Kirito is being honest, but he’s giving Kirito a look like there’s something wrong with him. 

“Shut up,” Kirito grumbles, pulling at his own shirt. “Asuna insisted that if I wanted to talk to her, it had to be here. I think she has it out for me.” 

Klein looks him over again. “She definitely has it out for you, buddy.” 

There’s a group of bards, headed by a girl in white singing a sweet song as people dance and talk and eat. The K.o.B room that’s being used to host is spacious and light, moonlight filtering in through the tall, thin windows, guests spilling out onto balconies. There’s a large space cleared out for a dancefloor, people whirling around; girls in pretty dresses and sparkling jewelry. He thinks Sachi would have liked to come to a party like this, maybe. She would have liked the dancing.

Speaking of, he can see Asuna out on the floor; dancing with someone in Blood Oath red and white. Her own dress is the sparkling color of champagne, soft and gauzy and glittery, and her hair is twisted up into a bun with a complicated braid wrapped around it. To top it all off she’s wearing towering red heels, blood-red jewels glinting at her ears and throat as her guild-mate twirls her around the dance floor. She looks… distant. Like she’s a million miles inside of her own head even as she smiles and laughs with the man she’s dancing with. There’s a sort of relaxed uniformity to it, like she’s been in those sky-high shoes a billion times. 

It makes Kirito uncomfortable to look at, so he turns back to Klein and does his best not to think about it. Klein asks him about life on the front lines, about blacksmiths and PC-run shops, about what floors he thinks would be best for taking a date to. Kirito answers, doing his best to feel like- like a real friend, like more than the ghost that’s been haunting his shell of a body for the last few months. After Nicholas the Renegade, with the item he had so desperately wanted safe in his inventory, it’s… different. The grief that lines his throat whenever he thinks of the Black Cats isn’t an open wound, anymore, but a scar. 

He thinks it’s a good thing. He won’t ever be over it, he knows, but he thinks that doing this- finding that boss, throwing himself into a fight for the item, had been cathartic, if not necessarily healthy. And he has Klein and Fuurinkazan to thank for his success, too, helping defend the outer lines from other guilds while Kirito tackled the boss. 

“I’m glad you’re my friend,” he tells the red-haired man, words slipping out of his mouth without his consideration or permission. At least they’re true.

Klein raises his eyebrows and grins down at him. “I am too,” he says, voice light and happy. “Happy new year, Kirito.”

“You too,” is all he manages before the other man slips into the crowd and a light-fingered grip wraps around his arm.

Asuna looks even more resplendent up close, glimmering in the light like some sort of rose-gold goddess, warm eyes trained firmly on his face. Much to Kirito’s relief, the look of doll-like distance she had been wearing has melted into one of her usual soft smiles. She looks- different, really, from the girl he had met just over a year ago. Less like a glass figurine, more like cut diamond.

“Fancy seeing you here,” she says, eyes glinting with mischief.

Kirito allows himself a small smile. “I was waiting for you,” he says, and Asuna’s smile grows wider.

“You have something to show me?” She asks, and there’s an edge of expectancy in her voice. Something on Kirito’s face must give him away, because Asuna starts leading him through the crowd, still towering above him in her shoes. She’s always been taller than him, but it’s a little ridiculous, having to tilt his head back to look at her. He only has to do that with  _ Agil _ , and he’s a giant.

Asuna leads him onto one of the balconies that frames the room, the music and chatter of the crowd fading to a soft hum in the background. “So,” she repeats, leaning down to adjust her heels. “You have something to show me?”

Trying to ignore the roiling in the pit of his stomach at the stone ledge of the balcony, Kirito opens his mouth to tell her about the item. “Those shoes cannot be comfortable,” he says instead, because he is a failure of a functioning human, and he can practically hear Klein and Suguha laughing at him in his head.

Asuna gives him what his sister would call a ‘Capital L Look’, and it’s only highlighted by the fact that she’s still messing with the lacing of her shoes; looking  _ up _ at him for once. It’s all raised eyebrows and pursed lips, the clear question of _ really? _ written all over her face. “We live in a video game,” she says, slowly. “Shoes are  _ always _ comfortable.”

“I have an item that could bring someone back from zero HP.” It’s the messiest, clumsiest way he could have said it, all in a rush because he really wants her to stop looking at him like that. Asuna is so surprised that she falls over backwards, effectively cutting off her gaze as she hits the ground with a yelp.

Her foot lashes out and knocks Kirito off balance before he can react, sending him tumbling to the ground after her. “What the fuck,” she hisses, scrambling across the stone balcony to look him in the eye. “What the fuck!”

Kirito scrambles backwards away from her until his back is pressed up against the edge of the balcony, and Asuna is pointing her finger in his face like it’s the tip of a sword. “It- I got it a few days ago, from an event boss, and I want you to have it,” he explains, only for Asuna to narrow her eyes at him.

“Why would you give something like that away?” She pauses. “Don’t say it’s because you’re my friend, because we both know you’d give it to Klein or Argo before me.”

She has a point, he has to admit. “My entire guild died, and… and I can’t trust myself to be part of another one, yet.” He tilts his head back with a dull  _ thud _ and looks up at the artificial moonlight above them, a glittering blanket of stars spread across the sky. “You waited for a stranger so they wouldn’t have to be alone during a boss raid. You’re one of the best members of an up-and-coming guild, and I trust you. I think you’re as close to a good person as anyone stuck in this death game will be.” He takes a deep, shaky breath. “I think had our situations been reversed, the Black Cats guild might have survived.”

Kirito isn’t looking at her, but he can feel Asuna shift back, settling herself into a crouch on the stone floor of the balcony. She’s quiet for a long moment, before rocking back up onto her feet. Her hand enters his field of vision, and he looks up at her, framed in the moonlight above him. There’s no pity on her face, just soft understanding while she offers him wordless help.

He takes her hand.

“I’ve always been mad that there’s no real medic class in this game,” she says, hauling him up. “So I try to save lives by making sure others don’t have to be out there, with us, on the front lines. Sometimes good people die anyways.” They stand, nearly nose to nose, and Kirito feels for all the world like Asuna is telling him the biggest secret she has. “You’re letting me save a life,” she whispers, “letting me well and truly bring someone back from that brink. You don’t know how much that means to me.”

Suddenly, his throat is very, very dry. “It’s- it’s the least I can do,” he stammers, feeling all for the world like the world's most emotional kaleidoscope; and then she’s laughing at him, loud and bright and clear.

“Thank you, Kirito-kun,” she says again, eyes sparkling. “You got me out of a solid half-hour of dancing and playing nice with guild members, and that’s a  _ real _ debt I can’t repay.”

He frowns. “If you don’t like dancing, why don’t you say no?”

Asuna shrugs. “It’s not the dancing I mind, and if playing nice perfect princess gets me into a position of power, who am I to complain about an easy way up?” She says it with such a practiced air, tense around the shoulders, and Kirito gets the feeling that’s not all there is to it. But then Asuna’s grinning at him again, teeth bared like the best kind of predator, and he can feel heat rising in his cheeks. “If you’re so worried, why don’t  _ you _ dance with me?”

Kirito does not know how to dance. He should probably say no. (Her hand is still in his, warm, lithe fingers entwined with his.)

“Sure,” he manages to squeak.

“Brilliant!” she says, and then she’s dragging him out towards the dance floor; and he _ really _ did not think this through. It turns out there’s no need to worry, though, because Asuna guides his hand to her waist and then sets off, pulling and pushing and prompting. She guides him through a waltz, one hand firm on his shoulder and the other still holding his, stepping and spinning the two of them around and around. He has _ fun _ , and she’s beaming at him like he’s made her night, and even though he still trips over his own two feet every few beats, she’s there to steady him.  

“Thank you for making me come to this,” he says quietly, lifting his hand to spin her around. “I’m having fun. A lot more fun than I expected, honestly.”

“Thank  _ you _ ,” Asuna replies, hand coming back to his shoulder. “Honestly, If I hadn’t been meeting you here, I probably wouldn’t have come either.”

He squints. “You insisted we had to meet here.”

She smiles prettily up at him, batting her eyelashes. “Someone had to get you to start coming to guild events. Besides,” she adds, “If I hadn’t come, it would have been a political nightmare. You’re doing a service, really.”

Kirito is pretty sure she played him like a goddamn fiddle. “You are one scary lady,” he tells her, just as the song comes to an end and they still.

“Thank you!” she replies, and Kirito is pleased to see a genuine flush spreading across her cheeks. “I know I’m pretty badass,” she continues with an air of mock haughtiness, turning and flouncing off the dance floor, dragging him behind her once more.

She lets go of him to go and find something to drink, and Kirito is staring after her with what he’s sure is a dopey look when Klein’s hand comes down on his shoulder. He jumps around half a foot in the air while his redheaded friend cackles with laughter, grinning.

“Look at you,” Klein teases, “all grown up and dancing with girls at parties! I’m so proud,” he says, wiping away a fake tear. 

Kirito shoves his arm away. “Shut up,” he says, cheeks warm with embarrassment. 

“Seriously, though!” Klein wraps his arm around Kirito’s shoulder. “I’m glad you came out tonight, dude. You look like you’re having fun, y’know? It’s good to see you so relaxed.”

“Yeah,” Kirito says. He doesn’t say how guilty he feels, how easily the Black Cats would have fit in at a party like this. He can almost see Tetsuo whirling Ducker around on the dance floor, feel Sachi’s grip on the crook of his arm as they chat. He doesn’t tell Klein about Keita’s two left feet, about Sasamaru’s love of fancy finger food, about each and every reason the Black Cats deserved to be here over him. “It’s… It’s a nice party.” 

He’d like to have one night where it doesn’t feel like the world is ending all over again.

The clock projected on the wall ticks, and it’s a minute to midnight. There’s people calling and hollering for their friends, and Fuurinkazan clusters around them. Someone presses a drink into his hands, and it’s Asuna squirming through the crowd to stand next to him. 

“I’m not going to kiss you at midnight,” she says, firmly, confidently, as if she’s expecting him to challenge that statement.

“Uh,” Kirito replies, because he’s a master at polite conversation. “Okay?”

Asuna pauses, and then raises an eyebrow. “You don’t want me to kiss you at midnight?” 

Kirito thinks this might be a trap. Logically speaking, there’s no way he can answer the  _ very pretty girl _ who could and would probably ruin his life who is looking at him very expectantly with a  _ literal  _ ticking clock behind her. “Maybe I just don’t want to be kissed,” he says, as archly as he can. “Bold of you to assume it has anything to do with you.” 

And she laughs at him, and he thinks it might be a victory for him, because at least he got her to laugh. The clock is still ticking down, second by second, and Kirito thinks that even if his world is ending, again, at least- at least there’s Klein, and Asuna, and laughter. 

The clock strikes midnight and they all holler and cheer, and Klein presses his scruffy face against Kirito’s cheek in the most overdramatic, embarrassing midnight kiss that Kirito has ever received in his entire life. (Well, the only midnight kiss, but the embarrassment is still well and alive.) 

“Here’s hoping this’ll be the year!” Asuna cheers, and Kirito looks at her, and he smiles. 

“Here’s hoping.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a softer chapter for you all..... i always felt like due to the timeskips and everything, we miss a lot of what makes the characters human, yfeel? i wanted to keep the idea alive that even in aincrad, people still found things to celebrate, and that kirito, asuna, and klein still found time to be friends with each other. 
> 
> on that note- thank you to everyone who's been commenting, it's so lovely to see and it gives me something to smile about while i work on the future chapters. see you all in two weeks!


	7. VI: THE BLACK SWORDSMAN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Do you know how many over-eager underlings I’ve had up my ass trying to get this info so they can get a promotion, as if their bosses aren’t also harassing me?” Her fork clinks against her plate as she stabs violently at her cake. “I hate my job.”
> 
> Kirito thoughtfully chews a bite of his own cake. “I hate your job too. But seriously, what are the goddamn chances.”

_ january fifth, 2024 _

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Kirito tells Argo, who looks as though she’s running on about zero hours of sleep. “The fucking  _ Elucidator _ is the drop for the fiftieth floor boss? Of all the goddamn swords in Aincrad?” 

Argo puts her forehead on the table in between them. It’s a testament to how tired she is that they’re sitting at a third-floor cafe rather than some fortieth-floor alleyway, all of her cloak-and-dagger nitpicking thrown out in favor of NPC food. “I’m going to jump off a bridge,” she says, and then cringes, looking over at Kirito. 

“No,” he says, “I agree with you, trauma or not. I’d rather die than sit through the guild bloodbath that this stupid sword is going to bring with it.” 

She gives a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank god. Still, sorry, but also,  _ fucking guilds,  _ right? Do you know how many over-eager underlings I’ve had up my ass trying to get this info so they can get a promotion, as if their bosses aren’t  _ also _ harassing me?” Her fork clinks against her plate as she stabs violently at her cake. “I hate my job.” 

Kirito thoughtfully chews a bite of his own cake. “I hate your job too. But seriously, what are the goddamn chances.” 

“It makes you really worried for how hard this game is going to get, post floor fifty,” Argo points out, finishing her cake and sliding Kirito’s plate across to her side of the table. “I mean, dude, the Elucidator is a legendary sword amongst beta players, and to think we’re getting a sword that easily does seven-hundred plus damage halfway through the game is a real testament to just how fucked our shit will be.” She finishes the rest of his cake, putting her fork down and gesturing for the NPC server to take their dishes away. “How much damage does your current sword do?” 

Kirito pauses. “Four hundred and fifty,” he says, quietly. “Is the Elucidator really seven hundred?”

“Up to seven-fifty, if my sources are accurate.” The info broker taps her fingers on the table, a steady, anxious rhythm to soundtrack their discussion. “I want you to try and get the drop.” 

Kirito drops his cup. It shatters into the little tiny iridescent fragments before dissipating with a sound like windchimes, and he barely notices because he’s too busy staring at Argo. “You want  _ what _ ,” he hisses, leaning forwards to make sure she knows how terrible of an idea he thinks that is. “Argo, you’re asking me to run a suicide mission! And that’s not even thinking about what the guilds will do to me if I manage to get it!” 

Argo snaps to attention, leaning in to get in his face. “That’s the  _ thing _ ,” she says, a gleam of excitement in her eyes. “You’re like, the most solo of all solo players, right? And the rules that apply to guilds don’t apply to you, so logically, you’re perfect to get the bonus!” 

He squints. “Explain.” 

“Well, so, when a guild player gets the drop, they have to disclose it to their guild! Which usually means they either cough it up for the upper ranks, or they give up being a guild member. But when other guilds find out, sometimes they try to poach the item by letting the member keep it if they join up, which gives them more power. That’s how the guild wars start.” She pauses, takes a deep breath to break up her rambling, fingertips still skittering their little  _ taptaptap _ pattern across the tabletop. 

“You want me to get it because the guilds either already hate me or know I won’t join up.” It’s less of a question and more of a resigned acceptance of Argo’s plan, which, really, should not be something Kirito is this used to. 

Argo nods fervently. “You’d only really have to worry about orange guilds, and most of them already know not to fuck with you! Plus, you’d get a cool sword,” she wheedles, batting her eyes at him. “You’re not just the best man for the job,” she adds, leaning over the table, “you’re the  _ only _ man for the job.” 

“Stop trying to flirt me into agreeing, we both know that you’re gay,” Kirito says, pushing Argo away. She overdramatically bats her eyes a few more times, grinning impishly. “...It is a  _ really _ cool sword,” he admits, and Argo fistpumps, laughing like a maniac. 

“Yes! Yes, I knew you’d say yes!” She cheers, standing up and wiggling in place. It’s weird, seeing her outside of the shadowed alleyways and shady deals that have become quintessential  _ Argo  _ to Kirito, the only context he knows how to see her in. For a minute, she’s  _ not _ Argo, like those few and far between moments where Kazuto takes charge over Kirito. Alone, in a cafe on the lower floors, where no one is going to recognize Argo the Rat, she’s laughing and cheering, celebrating such a small victory. 

She comes back to her chair, still beaming, and Kirito’s smiling too, because it’s- it’s like they’re friends, not just  _ acquaintances,  _ or  _ business partners _ . “Here’s what I’ve heard,” she starts again, but it’s not like- like Christmas, begging cold eyes for an answer, or like other deals. She’s not just invested, she’s  _ excited _ . 

Argo wants this sword as much as Kirito does. 

“Tell me everything,” he says, leaning forwards, and Argo’s grin is blinding. 

**⚔**

_ january seventh, 2024 _

“DON’T LET HIM GET THE LAST HIT,” a guild leader roars somewhere behind him, and Kirito hisses a curse. Like trying to murder a six-armed buddha statue that’s three stories tall wasn’t hard enough, now the people he’s supposed to be working with are trying to  _ stop _ him. 

Someone swings for his back, and then there’s a flash of red and black in their path, one of the few other solo players brave enough to face the front lines blocking the strike meant for him. She’s short and stocky and dressed from head to toe in an outfit that honestly makes her look like a Shadow the Hedgehog cosplayer, but she also just saved his life, so it’s fine, probably. (He’s no better, he knows.) 

“Argo sends her love,” the girl says, winking over her shoulder as she shoves the grunt back. Kirito offers a sharp nod in return before turning and running through the motions for  _ Meteor Break  _ in his head. 

The boss’ health bar tips towards the edge, and he charges. Another solo player, most likely on Argo’s command, knocks aside a throwing knife aimed at his head as he runs, sword lighting up golden like the sun as he charges. Every hit connects, and the fiftieth floor boss dies with a sharp cut across its neck, dealt by Kirito’s blade. 

_ Final Hit Bonus _ , his HUD reads,  _ The Elucidator; One-Handed Longsword. _

He can feel every pair of eyes in the room trained firmly on his back. He kind of wants to die. 

“Is it true?” A calm voice rings out from across the room, and Kirito wants to hunch his shoulders up around his ears and die. He knows that it’s Heathcliff, the commander of the K.o.B, from voice alone, and it’s the worst thing he’s ever experienced, being called out by a full-grown-man about a sword in a video game. “Is it the Elucidator?” 

He sighs, and makes a mental note to give up video games forever if he gets out of here. “Yes, it is,” he says, not daring to equip it as he turns to face the crowd. He really hopes that Argo is right, and that he isn’t literally murdered over this.

There’s uproar, instantly, and the Shadow-wannabe and the other solo player on Argo’s payroll immediately step in front of him, swords up. They’re briskly followed by approximately all of Fuurinkazan, and then Agil, who is the most reassuring member of his new bodyguard posse. “Back off,” The large man grumbles in his deep baritone, and there’s an instant drop in the chattering and clamouring in the room. No one wants to fuck with Agil, because he’s built like a brick shithouse, but he’s also basically the nicest person ever as long as you’re not a jerk.

Right, Kirito should probably focus on the borderline-angry mob that’s staring him down. “I’m not subject to guild law,” he recites, doing his best to not let his voice quake. “There’s no rules in place, game rules or otherwise, that say anyone other than me has claim on this sword.” 

A member of a guild he hasn’t bothered to learn the name of steps forwards. “Common decency demands you give it to people who are  _ actually dedicated _ to getting innocent people out of here,” they say, voice high and reedy and snide. 

He sees Asuna stiffen from her place at Heathcliff’s side, indecision clear on her face as she bites her lip. But whatever she was going to say is drowned out by Klein’s laughter, loud and echoing around the boss chamber. 

“Man,” he says, cheeks flushed and eyes sharp as his laughter subsides, “thanks for the funny joke, dude, I needed to laugh.” 

The guild member looks absolutely outraged, face ruddy and red with his anger. “How  _ dare  _ you!” he shouts, stepping forwards, but he stops short at the sight of every Fuurinkazan member drawing their katanas. 

“See, here’s the thing, dude,” Klein says, stretching. “Kirito here? He’s been on the front lines from day one, before even my guild joined up with the clearers,” he continues, stalking forwards. “Kirito has saved my life, put his own life at risk for complete strangers, and regularly throws himself at the bosses that make scrubs like you piss themselves, all with no backup.” Klein is in the man’s face, now, leaning down and grinning like a shark. “He’s got more decency and more dedication to this than you’re  _ ever _ going to have, so I’d recommend you step the fuck back, buddy.” 

The room is silent, save for the sound of Kirito’s heart pounding in his chest. Klein walks- no,  _ stalks _ , like some mangy alley cat with nothing to lose, until he’s back at Kirito’s side, still grinning like a fool. “Anybody else wanna come for my boy?” He asks, nothing but confidence in the tenor of his voice. 

Man, Kirito thought he was  _ over _ his dumb crush on Klein. He can feel the rumble of Agil’s muffled laughter behind him, see the impressed look on Heathcliff’s face and the proud one on Asuna’s. Everyone else is staring in a mixture of frightened awe and barely-concealed rage; held back by nothing but Klein’s words and the visibility of the situation. 

He’s going to tell any orange guilds that come after him that he sold the sword to Argo. (He’s not, but he’s definitely going to fantasize about it.) 

“Looks like there’s no more takers,” Klein says, mock disappointment lacing his voice. Kirito steps on his foot and he winces. “Jeez, alright,” he whispers, “I’ll wrap it up. Pushy, pushy,” he teases under his breath, and Kirito fights a grin at his words. “Guess we’ll be heading out then! WWFM, wheels up!” 

Kirito has to admit, Fuurinkazan moves with incredibly efficiency. They’ve got no problem shuffling him around with them, and Agil ruffles his hair as he’s scooted off by the red clad guild. “Thanks for the save,” he mumbles to Klein, who just grins and huffs out a laugh, not releasing his ironclad grip as he scoots Kirito upwards towards floor fifty-one. 

“Anytime, pal,” Klein tells him, and Kirito stops worrying for a minutes and lets his friend- no, his  _ best friend _ \- lead him towards the sunlight. 

⚔

The noise Argo makes when he shows up with the Elucidator slung across his back is borderline uncomfortable in nature. Her hands reach out, fingers wiggling in anticipation as he swings the sword in a figure eight before presenting it to her.

They’re in another back-alley, a necessity because Kirito can’t seem to lose the hoard of blacksmiths, guild members, and assorted other stalkers that have taken to following him around. Unless, of course, he’s in the grossest alleyway Argo is capable of finding. 

“Ooooooh,” she breathes, taking the sword from him and running a reverent hand along the blade’s dark edge. It reflects rainbows, even in the dim light, reds and blues and purples and greens glinting along the blade. It’s a stunning sword, really, black as night in the darkness and glittering like the stars the moment any light hits. A fitting title, really,  _ Elucidator _ , to make lucid or clear; throw light upon; to explain. It feels like things make more sense when he holds it, like the grip was made for his hand. 

“Keep it in your pants,” he grumbles to Argo, who rolls her eyes and sticks out her tongue at him. Her fingers are doing that same  _ taptaptap  _ along the blade, and she hums along to that little tune her fingers map out. 

She gives it a swing and then scrunches her nose up. “Too heavy,” she explains, handing it back. “Though I gotta say, Kiri-bou, that sword is  _ really _ doing it for me, and I don’t even swing that way,” she continues, waggling her eyebrows. 

Kirito rolls his eyes. “I get it, the Elucidator is the sexiest sword around and you’re still a lesbian,” he retorts, and Argo’s snickering bounces off the walls of the alleyway. 

She flips the sword around in her grip and hands it back to him grip-first. “It’s very fitting for you,” she admits, “being the Black Swordsman and all.” 

Kirito pauses with his hand on the sword. “I’m the what?”

They stand there for a moment, staring at each other, both with a hand on the Elucidator. Argo looks incredibly caught off-guard, and Kirito looks equally bewildered. “You’re- you didn’t tell people to call you that?” 

He tugs the sword fully out of Argo’s grip. “No, god, just how much of a dick do you think I am? Are people really calling me that?” He sheathes the sword. “That’s not even a cool nickname! Half of the people in Aincrad wear black and are swordsmen! I’m not even black, I’m  _ japanese! _ ” 

“Oh my god,” Argo splutters, collapsing back against the wall of the alleyway. “Oh my god, I hate that we can’t record things,” she gasps through her laughter, and Kirito scowls down at her.

“It’s a dumb nickname!” he insists, running a hand through his hair. “The whole point of usernames is picking what people call you! What’s wrong with Kirito, may I ask?” 

“Kirito is fine!” Argo says, reaching a hand up at him. He reluctantly pulls her up, the info broker rocking on her feet. “But dude, being known as  _ The Black Swordsman  _ means something! It means you, Aincrad’s grumpiest solo player, has enough of a reputation that even the suckers who can’t be fucked remembering your name have something to call you!” She pauses, putting her hand on your shoulder. “You’re up there with the K.o.B, buddy. Congrats!” 

“I hate this,” he tells her, honestly. 

Argo pats his cheek. “Suck it up, Black Swordsman, and get back to kicking ass!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys!! another early update mostly bc i got stuff to do tomorrow, but! here you go! it always kind of bugged me that they never showed how kirito got like, his Signature Awesome Sword so. ta da!! also argo is back and is a Lesbian confirmed. thanks for reading!


	8. VII: THE DRAGON GIRL

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “ _HELP,_ ” The voice of a girl- a young girl- tears through the forest, nearly feral in it’s desperation, and Kirito takes off like a shot from a gun. The forest blurs around him as he presses onwards at full speed, the Elucidator mincing any fauna that comes into his path.
> 
> He finds the screaming girl in a clearing, cornered against a large pine tree. She’s a sliver of a girl, skinny and wide-eyed, a knife held out in her shaking hands in an attempt to ward the three apes off.
> 
> She doesn’t look a thing like Suguha. She doesn’t have to.

_ february twenty-third, 2024 _

“Shitfuck,” Kirito curses as a Drunk Ape nearly knocks his head off. He brings his sword in a vicious arc and removes the creature’s arms from its body, killing it. He hates these stupid monkeys, and he hates the Forest of Wandering, and he kind of hates every single guild in Aincrad right about now. It wouldn’t have been hard for, let’s say, the K.o.B to spare a few grunts to track down a mastermind of an orange guild. Not even Fuurinkazan had been willing to help the poor bastard who had trekked all the way up to floor fifty-five to ask for someone to put a stop to Titan’s Hand. 

Kirito had always been a sucker for people in need.

Amongst the things that he hated were shitty, open-ended leads, especially the kind that bring him to the Forest of Wandering, one of his least favorite places in all of Aincrad. All he can feel is chill on the back of his neck, body wracked with violent shivers as the smiling face looked down at him,  _ ho ho ho ho ho hohohohohohohohohohHOHOHO- _

He takes the head off of another ape. Yeah, he fucking hates this place. But Titan’s Hand was a pain in his ass, and if they were going after civilian players, and he couldn’t just sit by and watch as that man begged at the feet of guild leaders who wouldn’t even look at him. Especially not with Suguha still acting voice to his conscience. There’s an awful sort of weight to this place, filled with Drunk Apes and bad memories, and it honestly takes Kirito a moment to realize the screams he’s hearing aren’t just in his head.

“ _ HELP _ ,” The voice of a girl- a young girl- tears through the forest, nearly feral in it’s desperation, and Kirito takes off like a shot from a gun. The forest blurs around him as he presses onwards at full speed, the Elucidator mincing any fauna that comes into his path.

He finds the screaming girl in a clearing, cornered against a large pine tree. She’s a sliver of a girl, skinny and wide-eyed, a knife held out in her shaking hands in an attempt to ward the three apes off.

She doesn’t look a thing like Suguha. She doesn’t have to.

His sword makes quick work of the last of the beasts, the glow of the death animation lighting up the girl’s face for a moment. Kirito nearly stumbles back when he gets a look at her, because she doesn’t look sad or frightened or distraught- she looks  _ angry _ . She’s a vicious little thing, in the light, no older than thirteen and with an expression he’s seen mirrored only in the most hardened frontliners. It’s oddly open, easy to read and full of childish hate as she points her knife at him.  

She’s wearing dragonscale armor. He is so beyond screwed. “Hey hey hey,” he placates, holding his hands up as he takes a slow, measured step back. “It’s okay, I’m here to help. I’m sorry for stealing your kills.”

“I don’t care about my kills,” she hisses, knife steadier now in her grip. “I want to know if Rosalia sent you.”

Kirito blinks. Rosalia is the name of the woman he’s hunting. “...No?” he says slowly. “No, look, I was grinding and I heard you calling for help, so I came running,” he explains, and her eyes narrow.

She straightens up, though, and her head doesn’t even pass his shoulders. “Sorry,” she says quietly, “Rosalia has been hounding me for weeks, and- and-” and the tiny girl bursts into tears. “And Pina  _ died _ !” she sobs, burying her face in her hands, and it’s such a quick one-eighty flip of emotion that Kirito thinks he might have whiplash.

“Oh my god,” he whispers, staring at the crying girl in the middle of the forest. “I have no idea how to handle this.”

**⚔**

“Wait,” Kirito says, leaning across the table, “ _ you’re  _ the Dragon Tamer?”

The girl, Silica, sniffles into her hot chocolate. “I guess,” she says quietly, “if that’s what people are calling me. I just wanted to make friends with the animals.”

Kirito feels a sudden, sharp pang of sympathy for this girl, frightened and angry and alone, running from an impressively deadly harasser and mourning a dead companion. She had cried and cried until he pointed out the item drop from Pina, her feathered dragon companion- a fragile blue feather, wreathed in light.  _ Pina’s Heart _ .

“I think I can save your dragon,” he had said, because he was a stupid idiot with a big mouth and a soft heart. Silica had looked so hopeful, though, that he couldn’t just  _ leave her _ there.

So now he’s buying a thirteen-year-old girl hot chocolate in hopes that she won’t burst into tears all over again.  And it’s kind of horrifying, in context, that he’s giving a little girl a cup of code because she’s been parentless for over a year, hunting monsters and raising dragons in the wild. Silica is almost dragon like herself, with her scaled armor and too-sharp eyes and the way she’s clutching the hot chocolate close, like it’s something precious to be treasured. He can see it in the way her hackles rise at the sound of footsteps approaching their table, eyes narrowing to slits as she glares at the woman who comes to stand next to them.

“Oh Em Gee, Silica, darling, I was  _ so worried _ !” The woman says, and Kirito kind of wants to rip his own ears off at her tone. “You just up and vanished, weeks ago, without letting us know what was up! Poor baby, you look like you’ve been through hell!”

He thinks that if she were physically capable of it, Silica would be hissing and spitting like an angry cat right about now. “Hi,” he says, because he’d really like to avoid being banned from this café too. “I’m Kirito. Can I help you with something?”

The red-haired woman raises an eyebrow at him. “Rosalia,” she purrs, putting a hand on his shoulder, and  _ yup _ , this is his mark. He kind of wants to crawl out of his skin and die to avoid the way she’s looking at him, like he’s  _ prey _ or something. “I’m just concerned about my dear friend Silica- we used to be rather close.”

Yeah, he’s calling bullshit on that one. “Sorry, ma’am,” he says, shrugging her hand off and hamming up his wide-eyed kid routine. “But Silica is fine- we’re just getting a hot cocoa after a day out hunting,” he continues as earnestly as he can. “She’s amazing with that knife of hers! Saved my life a few times,” he laughs.

“Silly Kirito-nii,” Silica says, playing along. “You know I wouldn’t have had such an easy time without you!”

She’s still dirty and tired and scared and alone, but Silica sells it for all she’s got, and it’s  _ enough _ . “My bad,” Rosalia says, and her smile is like a razorblade. “I’ll leave you two kids to your cocoa, then. Tata, Silica, Kirito.” She stalks away from them, out of the café and into the night.

“Motherfucking bitch,” Silica curses, and Kirito jumps in his seat.

“Where the hell did you learn to curse like that?” He demands, and she blushes, tugging on the ends of her pigtails. “I mean, you’re  _ right _ , but dude, you shouldn’t  _ say  _ it.”

Silica at least looks embarrassed, still tugging at her pigtails and blushing scarlet, and- she’s thirteen. Kirito said motherfucker when he was thirteen, right? (Although it’s not like he’s a great model for what functioning teenagers look like.) But there’s still something distinctly wrong about this feral girl seated across from him. Maybe it’s just his brain clinging to any sense of normalness, or some weird psychological issue, but he wants to protect her. She’s a child. So is he, but not in the same way as her- she’s young enough that spending two years in Aincrad has made her the half-feral dragon girl she is. Silica deserves- care, and love, and guidance.  

Kirito never stood a chance.

He tugs one of her pigtails himself, raising an eyebrow at her. “Seriously, kiddo, watch the language. My ears are burning.”

Silica pauses, eyes wide as she stares at him- not unlike how stray cats look at him when he passes in the street. For a moment he thinks he might have made a mistake, but slowly a grin starts to spread over her face. (He imagines, if this were a proper fantasy game, she would have fangs.)

“Okay, nii-chan,” she says, going back to her hot chocolate. “I’ll try, for you.”

Kirito hasn’t been called nii-chan in a really,  _ really _ long time. Not since Suguha was much younger, at least, before she graduated to calling him Kazuto. It’s kind of like a cup of ice water to the face- shocking, and a little upsetting, but refreshing, too. Honestly, that’s kind of Silica in a nutshell, so far; surprising and a little worrying but friendly and eagre in the way people usually- aren’t, at least not around him. Being the Black Swordsman comes at a cost, after all, and people being scared of him is the price demanded by his title.

So Silica being so brazen about not only her lack of fear in his presence, but her instinct that  _ she’s _ the threat between the two of them, not him. It’s a little concerning, too, but Kirito kind of gets the feeling that Silica’s confidence comes from experience- and the dragonscale armor definitely backs that up, even if it was acquired via dragon shedding and not killing a boss. He also kind of gets the feeling that Silica and his sister would get on like a house on fire, although probably way scarier than any case of arson could ever be.

In the back of his mind, he promises never to let them meet.

**⚔**

_ february twenty-fourth, 2024 _

Silica’s reflexes are astounding. That’s really all there is to say on the matter.

Really, though, Kirito is friends with some of the best players in Aincrad- Lighting Flash Asuna and Klein of Fuurinkazan, not to mention Argo’s incredible stealth skills and Agil’s straight-up powerhouse skillset. But the way Silica responds is like nothing he’s ever seen before, even despite the obvious setback of losing her companion. She’s just short of catlike in her movements, low and close to the ground, springing on enemies and  _ literally climbing them _ in order to stab at their eyes.

He feels kind of insecure about his own fighting skills, actually.

Kirito brushes off the insecurity and slashes at a plant monster that’s hoisted Silica into the air, sword slicing through the vine that was holding her aloft. Silica flips in the air, landing feet first on the monster’s bulbous head and driving her dagger into the beast. It dissolves into light and Silica lands lightly in a crouch, nearly concealed by the tall grass around her.

“You are fucking terrifying,” Kirito tells her. “Wait, no,  _ freaking _ terrifying. My bad.”

“And you’re incredibly useful!” Silica informs him, springing back to her full height. “Where do we go next?”

Kirito gestures along the winding red path in front of them. “Follow the yellow brick road,” he jokes.

Silica stares at him. “That’s a red brick road, nii-chan. Are you colorblind?”

“No, it’s- the yellow brick road! You know, like the  _ Wizard of Oz? _ ”

Silica continues to stare at him, unimpressed. “You’re old, nii-chan.”

“I’m- I am not  _ old _ , Silica!  _ The Wizard of Oz  _ is a classic!” And it’s also one of Suguha’s favorite western movies, which is absolutely one hundred percent beside the point. “I’m not even that much older than you!”

He paces after the dragon-girl as she flounces away from him, further towards the peak of the Hill of Memories.  _ She’s not your sister _ , the Suguha-voiced part of his brain reminds him.  _ I don’t care _ , he tells it, forcefully.  _ It’s been four-hundred and seventy-five days since I’ve seen my sister. It’s not like I’m replacing her. _

“Hey, nii-chan, a hand?” Silica hollers over her shoulder, dodging another writhing vine.

Even with the Elucidator in hand, slicing through plant monsters in movements that have become second nature to him, the little voice in the back of his head does not quiet.  _ First Sachi, now Silica, _ it sneers, sounding less and less like his sister with every passing moment.  _ I mean, it’s not like Suguha is your real sister anyways _ … it trails off, and Kirito slams the Elucidator into the writhing mass of vines, hissing with satisfaction as it vanishes.

He falls into a crouch, panting, staring at the ground. He doesn’t really register how long it’s been until Silica slowly falls into a crouch in front of him, one hand stretched out, not quite cupping the side of his face. “Kirito,” she says, softly, unusually delicate. “Shh, shh, you’re okay, Kirito,” she continues, and when he doesn’t flinch away from her fingertips brushing his skin, she moves to cup the side of his face more firmly.

It feels like there’s sandbags weighing his lungs down. “Sorry,” he manages to gasp out. Silica lets out another quiet shush, hands moving to pet his hair. A part of him distantly realizes that she’s treating him the way she treats her dragons, like a beast waiting to be tamed; a shuddering mess of a monster.

“It happens,” she says, quietly. “Fighting makes it all go away. I know.” Her small, lithe hands tug his head and shoulders forwards, coaxing him into a hug. “I know.”

It strikes him how small her voice is, how small her frame is, how young the girl comforting him really is. How sad her voice is.  _ I know _ , she tells him, over and over again, and he’s not entirely sure if she’s trying to convince him or herself.  _ Fighting makes it all go away. _

Slowly but surely he lifts his hands and places them on her back, hugging her back. He’s glad they’re far enough into the Hill of Memories that it’s mostly deserted, a pillaged dungeon only useful for item grabs and level grinding. The set stage of the first proper hug Kirito has had since- well, since Sachi.

Eventually they stand, Silica rising to her tiptoes to keep her hand on his face as she smiles up at him. “We’re gonna go fuck some shit up,” she tells him, firm and quiet. “And then, later, maybe we can talk, okay?”

Kirito brings a hand up and tugs the end of one of her pigtails. “Seriously, Silica,  _ language _ ,” he says before letting out a half choked laugh, half strangled sob.

She snorts and shoves his face away. “Kirito-nii, we were having a  _ moment _ ,” Silica whines, but she’s kind of laughing as well, so he counts it as a win. “Come on, you loser,” she says affectionately, and Kirito wonders just how he’s managed to become so affectionate for the little, borderline feral, foul-mouthed dragon girl who’s dragging him down the road to save her pet.

_ Not a replacement, _ he tells the dark part of his brain, firmly.  _ None of them are. None of them will ever be _ . 

It doesn’t quite work. But Silica laughs at him, even as they’re fighting for their lives, for her best friend’s life, and he manages to keep going. It may not have worked, but it may not  _ have _ to, either. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> silica is SUCH an underused character, imo. a girl who's been in the game since she was like? twelve? and you have her primary traits be being cutsey and having a crush? disgusting. she's my character now and she's absolutely fucking feral! also i updated past chapters so that asuna always calls kirito 'kirito-kun'


	9. VIII: A FAMILY AFFAIR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The branches of the trees shift, and Kirito’s eyes snap to the source of the movement. “I know you’re there, Rosalia.”
> 
> The voice that answers isn’t Rosalia’s. It’s a voice that makes something in his brain twitch red and wet and vicious, setting off his heart pounding in his chest and his breath getting caught in his throat. “Not just Rosalia,” the voice taunts, and the members of Titan’s Hand step into the open, lead by Rosalia and a petite blonde woman, dressed in blacks and blue.
> 
> “Wren,” he says, and it’s been four-hundred and forty one days, but he hasn’t forgotten her. “You’re Wren,” he repeats, his voice dropping to nearly a whisper as he stares at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! heads up for more violence than usual, amputation, and brief mentions of familial abuse.  
> please look after yourselves!

“I don’t take kindly to ambushes,” he calls out, ignoring Silica’s look of mild panic at his bravado. “Surrender now and this can be over the easy way.”

Silica is still looking at him out of the corner of her eye like he’s a madman, which may as well be true. But the grove where the Pneuma Flower resides is shrouded by willow trees, the long branches providing too perfect of a cover for someone who had looked at Silica like Rosalia had. Kirito doesn’t draw the Elucidator, or move forwards towards the pedestal where the flower will bloom; he just waits, a hand still on Silica’s shoulder, just in case. 

The branches of the trees shift, and Kirito’s eyes snap to the source of the movement. “I know you’re there, Rosalia.” 

The voice that answers isn’t Rosalia’s. It’s a voice that makes something in his brain twitch red and wet and vicious, setting off his heart pounding in his chest and his breath getting caught in his throat. “Not just Rosalia,” the voice taunts, and the members of Titan’s Hand step into the open, lead by Rosalia and a petite blonde woman, dressed in blacks and blue. 

“Wren,” he says, and it’s been four-hundred and forty one days, but he hasn’t forgotten her. “You’re Wren,” he repeats, his voice dropping to nearly a whisper as he stares at her. 

She hasn’t changed a bit, he notices, all sharp edges and barely concealed malice. “I’m Wren,” she says, mockingly, and he flinches back. “And you’re the  _ Black Swordsman _ . I must admit, I never could have guessed the type of monster I was making, all that time ago, but color me impressed.” 

His fingers twitch, longing for the comfort of the Elucidator in their grasp. “What sort of monster  _ did  _ you make me, Wren?” He asks her, his violet eyes trained firmly on her figure. He’s barely whispering, his voice deathly quiet, but she still hears him. 

She bares her teeth, a mocking imitation of a smile as Titan’s Hand laughs and jeers from behind her. “Oh, the best sort,” she tells him. “You don’t want to be a monster, little boy, but you just can’t seem to stop getting people killed, can you? Diabel, all that time ago, and that precious little guild of yours, and now…” she trails off, eyes landing on Silica. “Your little sister, was it?” 

Before he can think, before he can move, before he can show Wren just how much of a monster he can be, there’s a blur of motion. Silica launches herself at the mercenary, cutting two long stripes across her chest and skittering backwards as Wren’s blade slices a thin line across her throat in retaliation. 

“Shut the fuck up about my big brother,” the dragon girl hisses, coiled and tense and ready to pounce. 

“I’ll have fun killing you, brat,” Rosalia snaps, even as Wren regains her composure. 

For a brief moment, Kirito’s memories shift and warp and snap, overlapping and merging. Silica becomes Sachi, who becomes Suguha; and Wren becomes a Dark Dwarf Miner and then his grandfather in turn. There’s a swelling bruise on Suguha’s cheekbone, and a puncture wound through Sachi’s chest, and a thin, thin red line across Silica’s throat. 

“Don’t touch my litter sister,” Kirito says, and his voice is echoing and distant in his own ears. His blade is in his hand even though he doesn’t remember drawing it. Distantly, he can register Wren talking to him, poking and prodding at him until he snaps, like all that time ago, in Illfang’s chambers. But all he can hear is Sachi’s choked noise of terror, Suguha’s yelp of pain, Silica’s hiss of surprise, overlapping in a sickening chorus of noises he can’t help but remember. 

“Back off,” he manages to catch Wren saying. “This is my kill.” 

It doesn’t even register when her shortsword plunges into his chest, the familiar red glow spilling from the wound. He takes a step forwards, driving the blade even deeper, and he can hear the steady  _ blipblipblip  _ of his battle regen ability working desperately to undo the continuous damage of the wound.

“I am the Black Swordsman,” he says, tightening his grip on the Elucidator, “and you should not have fucking hurt my little sister.” 

He doesn’t feel the sword in his own chest, but he feels the tug and pull of Wren’s body on his blade as the Elucidator arcs up, slicing through her shoulder and removing Wren’s sword arm from her body. The red glow from her wound casts a harsh, vicious light across her face, contorted in a shriek of pain as both her sword and arm fall to the ground, shattering on impact. Her health bar dives into the red, finally coming to a standstill at what most people refer to as the “panic zone”. 

Wren falls to the ground with less than ten HP left, and across the clearing, Rosalia lifts her polearm. “One fancy move doesn’t make you a god, kid, so step the fuck off now and I might even let you survive.” 

Kirito lifts his head up to reply, the point of his sword still aimed at Wren’s prone form, but Silica beats him to it.

She must have moved in the shadows of Kirito and Wren’s spectacle, because she’s perched behind Rosalia, one knife at her throat and the other aimed just under her ribs. “We aren’t scared of you,” Silica whispers, and everyone in the clearing hears the silent follow-up.  _ You should be scared of  _ **_us_ ** _.  _

“Do you know how much suffering you’ve caused?” Kirito asks the group, his eyes drifting back to Wren. “Do you know the pain that your actions bring?” 

He’s met with silence, stark and deafening. There’s maybe six of them, total, Rosalia and Wren’s lackeys looking increasingly panicked and outmatched with every second that passes. Kirito thinks he must have looked like that, once, when he was Kazuto, before he fell into the shroud of the Black Swordsman. Before he watched Diabel die. “Go,” he tells them, quietly, commandingly. “Leave now. Make sure you never end up opposite of me on a battlefield again.” 

His next words lay heavy on his tongue. “Only these two have to stay.” 

He nearly feels bad for Rosalia and Wren, with how fast their party abandons them, scattering into the night without a second thought. “Go on,” Wren goads, once they’re gone. “Now there’s no one to see when you kill me. I bet it’ll feel good,” she taunts, “I know I always love the thrill.” 

But there’s no rise of the rotting, twisted darkness in his chest. There’s no flashback-fueled adrenaline, no rage or fear coursing through his veins and pushing him forwards. He’s just tired. 

He doesn’t kill Wren.

Kirito drops a teleport crystal onto her stomach and watches as she fades from view, the shattering effect lighting up the grove as she vanishes to the lower-floors prison. “That crystal was for you,” he tells Rosalia. “You killed a man’s whole party. Everyone but him. Do you regret it?”

“No,” she hisses, her face twisted into a snarl. Her eyes are wide and shining with something unreadable, though- fear, maybe. 

“You should,” he tells her, walking closer to her. “When you killed them, or gave the order, you stole everything from him. You took their lives, but you took his future, Rosalia, and he worked and begged and scraped until someone agreed to come hunt you down.” 

Rosalia looks him in the eye, and the unknown emotion makes itself clear with her words. “If you knew mercy, you’d kill me now,” she tells them, desperation plain in her voice. “That prison’s going to kill Wren and I both, slow and painful. You’re taking  _ our  _ futures. That’ll be on your soul.” 

He opens his inventory and pulls out a second crystal, the backup bought with his own col in case the first one hadn’t worked or something had gone wrong. “It’s a shame I don’t know any mercy.” 

The hill falls quiet, just him and Silica standing there, Kirito’s heartbeat pounding in his ears. “Did you lie to me, to draw them here?” Silica asks him, sounding her age for the first time that day. Her voice is raw and hurt and angry, knives held loosely in her hands as she watches him. 

“Not once,” he says, jerking his head towards the pedestal. “It’ll bloom for you, and it’ll bring Pina back. Everything I’ve said has been true.” 

She turns to face it, Pina’s Heart appearing in her hand as she navigates her inventory. “Twice,” she corrects, voice still wrought with hurt. “You called me your little sister twice. You’ve barely known me a day.” 

“ _ Not once, _ ” he bites back, voice finally rising to something more than a whisper. “I meant every word, Silica.” 

The Pneuma Flower blooms as the Dragon Tamer approaches it, her hands trembling in the blinding white light as she offers the heart to the little bloom. “I’m not whoever you’re homesick for,” she tells him, the light washing over her. “I’m not her.” 

The dragon blooms back into life as tears spill down her cheeks, a sob wracking her small frame as she reaches for the creature. Pina swoops down and nuzzles at her cheek as she cries, the stress and feelings of the day finally overwhelming her.

“You never were,” he tells her, watching the reunion. “You’re never going to be. You aren’t, I swear it,” he vows. 

When she turns to face him again, scrubbing at her cheeks, Pina’s wrapped over her shoulders like a shawl, pale blue scales matching the color of her armor perfectly. “Do you really mean that?” She asks, and for all the power and status and titles the game has offered him, Kirito still feels very,  _ very _ small.

“Always,” he promises, and he does. She’s not Sachi, short and funny and clumsy and kind, and she’s not Suguha, witty and sharp as a blade and a million miles away. She’s something else entirely, this little dragon girl, smart and quick and fierce. Silica, who understood his loss, who told him  _ fighting makes it all go away,  _ who saw the scars of grief and did not look away. He knows her for her pain and loneliness and savage thoughts, even after such a short time. “It doesn’t matter that it’s only been a day,“ he says. “You’re my little sister, if that’s what you want to be.” 

She darts forwards and slams into him, squeezing him tight around the waist with vice-like arms. Pina swoops above them and chitters with glee, landing on Kirito’s head and licking at his bangs. “Of course,” Silica says, voice muffled by his coat. “Of course that’s what I want.” 

He thinks, as he hugs her back, that there must be some small mercies in this world, for him to be able to find this half-savage heart, scarred and broken and hard in all the same ways as him. He thinks, for all of the death and violence and suffering he has endured, this game has shown him kindness in the shape of a family. 

“Come on,” he tells Silica, looking down at her and thinking of Klein. He gives her his best grin. “I’ve got a brother that I think you’re gonna love.” 

**⚔**

When Kirito manages to elbow his way into the crowded PC run cafe Klein tends to favor, Silica in tow, he runs right into Argo. Being significantly taller and not really paying attention means he bowls the information broker right over, earning him an array of dirty looks from other patrons.

“Shitfuck, sorry, Argo,” he says, sticking his hand out to help her up. Silica lets out a high pitched giggle from behind him, her catlike eyes darting between him and Argo. 

“Don’t swear in front of your  _ girlfriend _ , nii-chan,” she teases, and Kirito nearly drops Argo again because of how flustered he is. 

Argo squints at Silica. “Is she really your sister?” She asks, raising an eyebrow at him. Kirito nods his assent, and the rat crinkles her nose. “God, the family resemblance is real. Sorry for you, kiddo, but I’m too much of a lesbian for your sweet brother to ever even fantasize about dating,” she tells Silica, who flushes and looks at the ground. 

“Oh, fuck off,” Kirito says, shoving at Argo’s shoulder, but he’s grinning. “You wanna grab dinner with us? Klein’s coming too, if that sweetens the pot.” 

Argo glances over her shoulder surreptitiously, eyes falling on a man in K.o.B red and white who’s trying to force his way into the cafe. “Can you get me away from him?” 

Kirito scowls, shrugging out of his coat. “Guilds,” he says, spitting out the word like it’s a curse. 

“Guilds,” Argo sighs, shrugging out of her poncho and into his coat.

“Fucking guilds,” Silica adds, just to be helpful.

“Why are we cursing out guilds?” Klein asks, propping his elbow on Kirito’s shoulder and leaning on him. Kirito jumps, jolting away from the taller man, who laughs. “Hey, guys, how’s it going?” 

“I am going to stab you one of these days,” Kirito tells Klein, stabbing a finger in his direction. “It’s going to happen, and no one is going to help you. Really, I thought you were supposed to be a samurai, not a ninja!” 

Klein laughs and punches Kirito’s shoulder lightly. “Good to see you too, pal. And Argo, my favorite informant!” He winks at Argo and then turns to Silica. “And who might you be, madame?” 

God help Kirito, Silica actually blushes at the samurai’s goofy antics. Not that Kirito acted much differently when he first met the man, but  _ still.  _ Silica tugs at the end of her pigtails and looks like she’s considering hiding behind Argo. “I’m Silica,” she says bashfully, big red eyes looking up at Klein. 

“My little sister,” Kirito cuts in, and from the rise of Klein’s eyebrows he’s going to have to explain himself properly later.

“Nii-chan said you were his brother?” Silica asks, all big-eyed innocence and well intent as she dooms Kirito forever. Klein looks absolutely delighted as he hooks his arm over Kirito’s shoulders, pulling the shorter boy close to him.

“I am  _ absolutely _ that,” he answers, beaming. “I am the best big brother in the  _ entire _ world, and if you’re Kirito’s little sister, that means you’re  _ my  _ little sister too!”   
  
“I have regrets,” Kirito announces. They ignore him.  _ Yeah, they’re family,  _ he thinks, and he can’t help but smile at the three of his friends as they lead the way to an empty table, smiling and laughing all the while. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kirito gets stabbed count: 1  
> happy update guys! i hope you all enjoy <3  
> 


	10. IX: MURDER IN A SAFE ZONE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m sorry,” Asuna says, face carefully blank, “but I think the translator is malfunctioning. I didn’t quite catch that.”
> 
> Douchebag-ponytail-waiter sneers. “I’m speaking Japanese, just like you.” He’s turning a frankly fascinating shade of purple from his anger. “The translator shouldn’t be affecting anything.”
> 
> “Japanese isn’t my first language,” she informs him politely, in flawless, untranslated Japanese.

_april thirteenth, 2024_

“Stand down, Kirito,” Heathcliff’s voice rings out, clear and commanding and all together rather infuriating. “Asuna is right- sacrificing NPCs isn’t the right move. They’re still people.”

Kirito is going to tear his hair out. “They’re _code_ ,” he hisses between gritted teeth, leaning forwards to glare at the K.o.B commanders. “This dungeon won’t be any less in out way while we sit around and pretend that NPC lives are somehow worth sacrificing _dozens_ of players!”

Asuna’s gaze cuts like steel, but Kirito meets it resolutely. Her honey-brown gaze is intimidating, sure, but Kirito knows his own isn’t anything to scoff at- she may be a K.o.B officer, but he’s got purple irises and a whole lot of anger on his side. “If we start slaughtering NPCs, we get that much more used to killing,” Asuna explains, slowly, like he’s a child. “We aren’t killers, Kirito-kun.”

“Stand down,” Heathcliff repeats, and Kirito snaps.

“Do not tell me to stand down, old man,” he snarls. “Don’t forget that I’m not one of your precious knights, and I do not, and am _never_ going to answer to you.” He straightens up, still glaring at them both. “There are real human lives at stake here, and I have better things to do than listen to you plan on how you’re going to throw them away to save some ones and zeroes.”

Asuna flinches back at that, which he’s going to feel bad about later, but he genuinely can’t believe she’s choosing this hill to die on. He turns his back on the raid committee, and the crowd parts for him like the red sea as he stalks out of the room. At least his reputation is good for one thing.

Kirito summons as much contempt as he can and looks back over his shoulder at the guild leaders. “If you’re willing to risk my life for a bunch of game constructs, then you can count me the fuck out.”

He’s never seen Asuna look so disappointed before. He can’t say he likes it. Kirito _never_ likes arguing with her, because she’s his friend and they both know that she’s smarter than this; and she only ever acts this way in front of Heathcliff and the other guild leaders. Asuna is a strategist, and a damn good one at that, but Kirito is too. Luring the dungeon boss to the nearest village is the best way to keep their casualty rate down, and they both know it.

Granted, Kirito’s participation would also help with that, but if he bends down, the guild s are gonna try and walk all over him even more than they already do. He fucking hates politics.

The weather outside of the meeting hall is beautiful, though, warm and sunny and quite possibly the optimal weather settings in the game. He’s going to go find a park, lay down, and _not_ think about Asuna _or_ guild politics. He’s going to ignore Argo and Klein’s messages about the mess he’s just caused, park his ass under a tree, and he is going to sit there until he’s calmed down.

 _Yeah, who am I kidding_ , he thinks, face planting in the grass under a shady tree and groaning. _Man, Asuna is going to kill me_ . He knows that she’s had to work twice as hard and deal with twice as many ugly rumors in order to get to where she is, to garner the respect of the guilds. He might be a reviled exile to most guilds, but his voice still _matters_ , and every time he speaks up against her he makes it a little bit harder. He’s the last solo player on the frontlines, and that matters, regardless of how much he hates it.

But Asuna’s just as good as him- maybe even better than he is, and instead of carving her way through the mess that is guild politics and compromise, she’s walked above it all. Her life is a tightrope of the Lightning Flash, strong and unwavering and bold; and Asuna, willing to bend and appease and smile if it helps her get a leg up.

They’ve never spoken about it in anything more than brief mentions, jokes that aren’t really jokes. By all means, it’s none of Kirito’s business. Her guild comes first, and he gets that- they both have their own codes to follow, just like every other strong player.

Klein- _Do only good, no matter how much bad happens._ Heathcliff- _Be a glorious beacon for all who live in despair._ The ALF- _Once you have conquered, tolerate no dissent._ His own code- _my life in my own hands, their lives in theirs._

Asuna, the other side of his coin- _be thou for the people_.

“You should have done a better job hiding.”

Kirito rolls over to squint up at Asuna. She really shouldn’t be as good at looming as she is. “I wasn’t hiding,” he tells her pointedly. “I was taking a nap. It’s optimal weather settings today, I’ll have you know.” She’s still looming. “Also, you don’t scare me.”

She snorts, her stance finally relaxing. “Yes, I do.”

“Yes, you do,” he concedes, sitting up. “Did they send you to win my allegiance back with your womanly wiles and witchcraft?”

She sits next to him on the grass, folding her legs under her carefully. Her hair shines like spun copper, lit delightfully red by the sunlight that filters through the trees as she tilts her head back to soak up the sun. “Something like that, yeah,” she tells him. She opens one eye to look at him. “Is it working?”

He resists the urge to snicker. “It’ll work better when you tell me they’re not still seriously planning on charging that dungeon without some sort of bait or lure.”

Asuna breaths out a long, steady sigh. “Heathcliff won’t go for it, and you know I can’t go against him.”

“Stage a coup,” he replies flatly. “Seriously, Asuna, I won’t do it. I might actually die, and I’m _me_. Even if all the higher-ups survive, you know how many of your lower-level knights you’re gonna lose?” She doesn’t move, still sitting with her eyes closed and her head tilted up, nearly saint-like, as if she’s looking to the sky for divine guidance. “It won’t be a raid, Asuna, it’ll be a massacre.”

“I know,” she says, voice tight. “I know.” She tilts her head down, hair falling over her face, but he catches the glint of a tear on her cheek.

Fucking shit, he didn’t mean to make her _cry_. He’s the worst. Even being around Silica, who cries whenever she’s frustrated, has done absolutely nothing to make him better at handling things like this. “Asuna, I-” he starts, voice breaking off when she shakes her head.

“Look at me,” she says, with a faint laugh. “Vice commander of the K.o.B, crying because her friend told her the ugly truth.” Her shoulders shake with either laughter or tears as she presses a hand to her face. They shake harder as a few borderline-hysterical giggles escape her, and she lets herself fall back against the ground as she laughs. “Oh my god,” she manages between giggles, “oh my god!”

 _Oh my god,_ Kirito repeats in his head. _I broke Asuna_.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” she says once her laughter has died down. “And about- about all of this. I’m a mess.”

Kirito lets himself fall back so he’s laying next to her. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” he tells her. “I’m your friend, and you’re in one hell of a stressful situation, Asuna. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

She rolls onto her side, propping her cheek upon her hand to look at him. “Let me take you out for an apology dinner anyways? To that PC-run place you like?”

 _It’s not a date,_ he tells himself sternly. “Womanly witchcraft and wiles,” he says out loud, grinning up at her. “How could I refuse?”

She stands up, brushing off imaginary dirt from her skirt, and then she offers him a hand. “The quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,” she tells him conspiratorially, grinning right back. As he reaches up to take her hand, Kirito wishes he could tell her just how right she is.

**⚔**

“Well, if it isn’t Lightning Flash Asuna,” the man standing above them sneers, his contempt clear on his face. He’s got his hair pulled back from his face into a severe ponytail and a scowl painted as he glares down at Asuna.

Kirito is a little dumbfounded. He genuinely can’t believe this is an interaction he’s having at a with a waiter.

“Yes, that’s me,” Asuna replies, the picture of polite poise. “Can I help you with something?”

The waiter scoffs. “I don’t need any advice on sleeping my way to the top,” he bites out, “so no.”

Kirito wonders if they’ll ban him when he stabs this fucker. They’re in a safe zone, and the guy wouldn’t even feel it, but the vindication would be so very real.

“I’m sorry,” Asuna says, face carefully blank, “but I think the translator is malfunctioning. I didn’t quite catch that.”

Douchebag-ponytail-waiter sneers. “I’m speaking Japanese, just like you.” He’s turning a frankly fascinating shade of purple from his anger. “The translator shouldn’t be affecting anything.”

“I don't speak Japanese,” she informs him politely, in flawless, untranslated Japanese. Ponytail turns to look at Kirito in disbelief.

Kirito shrugs at him. “I don’t speak Japanese either, sorry,” he chirps, also in Japanese.

Asuna beams at him from across the table. Ponytail opens his mouth again, undoubtedly to say something else unsavory; but he’s cut off by a piercing shriek. Any remaining air of causality vanishes as the two of them stand, Asuna’s back straightening and Kirito’s grin vanishing as their heads snap to look towards the source of the noise.

Kirito can feel his shoulders tense at the noise, see the sharpness of Asuna’s eyes coming into focus as she looks across the table at him. No words pass between them, a spark of silent understanding passing through their gaze as they both rise and start in the direction of the shrieking.

Asuna is fast enough that her feet barely touch the ground as she runs ahead of him. Kirito’s feet slam into the ground, heavy steps sending jolts up his legs every time they connect with the cobblestones. The pair end up skidding into the floor’s central square just in time  to see a man, gruesomely speared and hung from the clock tower, shatter into thousands of tiny shards of light.

“Impossible,” Asuna breathes, and the crowd dissolves into chaos around them. Asuna’s hand goes to her rapier, the pale blade rattling in it’s sheath as her hand shakes. She’s seen death before, Kirito knows she has, but this is different. Towns and cities are safe-zones- every death either of them have ever seen have been outside of these supposed pockets of security, the safe-havens they were offered. She stands there, trembling and wide-eyed, for once in her life looking more prey than predator before a wave of fierce determination crashes through her. Her back straightens and she draws her sword with the low hiss of metal on leather.

“Kirito-kun,” she says, low and urgent, “I’m really sorry if this hurts.”

In a single fluid motion, her sword twists in her hand and she drives it straight through his chest, right under his sternum. It slides in with an easy motion, right up to the hilt, and he looks down at the red light on reflex.

 _Ow_ , he thinks, but it doesn’t really hurt at all- not that attacks in SAO ever do hurt _too_ much. It’s more like a dull smack to the chest than anything else, accompanied by the customary red light. There’s no _blipblipblip_ of his health regenerating- it stays firmly in the green.

The crowd is still around them, every eye in the square trained firmly on Asuna as she withdraws her sword. “You didn’t take any damage,” she says, quietly relieved. He nods his head in conformation, and she turns to address the people. “He didn’t take any damage,” she repeats, voice pitched to carry. “This is still a safe zone.”

He falls into place next to her, tilting himself up, just slightly, onto his tiptoes. “Warn a guy before you stab him next time,” he whispers, and in lieu of a reply she steps on his foot.

“If anyone saw what happened or who did this, please come forwards,” he calls, tilting his head up to more firmly address the crowd. An uncertain rumble spreads through the crowd, and he frowns- of course the won’t listen to him. For all the respect he may have garnered with his title amongst guilds, the rumors among those who don’t fight on the front lines never quite stopped spreading.

“We only want to prevent this from happening again,” Asuna calls, her hand coming up to rest on his shoulder. “The Black Swordsman and I will personally head the investigation to ensure this matter is taken care of- I swear it on my honor as a Knight of the Blood Oath.”

He really wishes she wouldn’t call him that, or that she would consult him before making promises like that. But as she says it, a young woman with indigo hair steps out of the crowd- a woman who had only flinched away at Kirito’s call. She’s looking up at them now with big, tear-filled eyes, and in her grip she has the sword that killed the man, clutched tight to her chest as if she might lose it.

“My name is Yoruko,” she says, voice small and uncertain. “And the man who died up there was my boyfriend.”

**⚔**

“...and then I saw Cainz hanging up there with- with- with this _thing_ stuck through his chest,” Yoruko tearfully explains, still clutching at the blade with white knuckles. “He was supposed to be picking me up for dinner.”

Kirito reaches out, slowly, trying to remember what Silica had taught him about frightened animals and not scaring people. “Yoruko, can I see the sword, please?” he asks, making sure to keep his voice steady and even. The woman nods rigidly, fingers unfolding slowly to relinquish her grip.

It’s a custom made blade, dark red metal edged in razor-sharp steel, it’s distinctive thorn pattern making for quite the impressive blade. The HUD popup informs him that it’s called the _Rose’s Revenge_ , which might have made him laugh if it wasn’t a murder weapon.

“We should take this to an appraisal specialist,” Kirito tells Asuna quietly, flipping his HUD so she can read it too. “If we find who made it, we can find who it got sold to.”

“Argo?” Asuna asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Nah, Agil,” he replies. “His appraisal stat is insane.”

She nods, apparently satisfied with her answer, and turns back to Yoruko. “Have hope,” she reminds the other girl gently. “We’ll find whoever did this, and make sure they face consequences for their crime.”

Yoruko bursts into tears, burying her face in her hands and sobbing. Asuna quickly moves to comfort her, rubbing circles on the girl’s back and making reassuring shushes while Kirito stands off to the side.

“It’ll be alright,” he tries, but Yoruko only sobs harder and he’s met with one of Asuna’s famous glares that sends him scurrying into the hallway.

 _A murder in the safe zone_ , he thinks, leaning his head back against the wall with a dull _thunk_ as he waits for Asuna and Yoruko to emerge. Guilt claws at his chest at the way people flinched back from him, the way he ran from comforting Yoruko. He’s never been good at comforting people, especially when they’re crying- something Suguha has smacked the back of his head over more than once. But it’s worse, now, because he can’t stop being suspicious of her.

It just seems- _orchestrated._ Yoruko picking up the murder weapon, the public nature of Caynz’s death, the timing and theatrics of it all. It’s like the beginning of every murder-mystery game he’s ever played, rewritten to fit the script of SAO. It feels like a _trap_ , almost, and it’s the worst kind of feeling, not trusting a mourning woman. He can’t figure out if he and Asuna were planned to intervene, or if they’re both messing with something legitimately _dangerous_. If it is an accident, he can’t stop himself from thinking what this accident might cost him.

“Hey, are you okay?” Asuna’s voice makes him jump, breaking him out his reverie as she exits the room and shuts the door behind her softly. “Yoruko decided she wanted to stay here. I’ve called a guard for her,” she explains. “She’s pretty rattled.”

“Her and me both, with good reason,” he replies. “You have any theories?”

She shrugs helplessly. “Beyond a _really_ fatal glitch? Nothing really,” she answers. “We’re missing something, and I can’t quite figure out what it is. It’s driving me crazy!”

Kirito looks down at the red sword in his grip, his theory on the tip of his tongue, but… “Hopefully Agil will be able to puzzle it out,” he says, hefting the blade over his shoulder. Asuna gives him a grim smile in return.

“Here’s hoping.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i fuckin hate this arc, lads, but we're doing this ! we're making it happen! also my 20th birthday is this tuesday so wham bam bonus update! 
> 
> kirito gets stabbed count: 2 
> 
> also when talking about the codes different characters follow, i reference the d&d paladin's oaths for heathcliff's, the ALF's, and i _believe_ klein's? i love d&d and also paladins. oath of the ancients forever.


	11. X: ROSE'S REVENGE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Will you not complain if I let you do your silent, brooding, Black Swordsman shtick?”
> 
> “Don’t call me that,” he grumbles. “But yeah, fine, we can do good cop bad cop.”
> 
> The grin she gives him is a wicked thing, now, as she rises to her feet. “Oh, Kirito-kun,” she laughs. “Who said anything about there being good cop?”

_ april thirteenth, 2024 _

“Where the hell do you find this shit, man?” Agil asks, examining the scarlet blade in his grip. Kirito shrugs his response as the older man brings up the sword’s stat window with a few gestures, peering down at it. “Nothing about this is super unusual,” he informs them. “Definitely not anything that says it can kill in a safe zone.” 

Asuna frowns, leaning forwards to squint at the stat window. “Custom-made by… Griselda? Have either of you heard of her?”

Both Kirito and Agil shake their heads. “Custom or not, it still doesn’t explain why it could do damage in a safe zone,” Kirito points out, causing Asuna’s frown to deepen.

“Maybe…” she trails off, reaching for the blade. “Hey, Kirito-kun, what’s your HP regen like?” 

“Uh, nearly maxed. Why?”

Asuna takes the sword from Agil. “I’m going to stab you, that’s why.” 

He raises his eyebrows. “Really? Twice in one day? Y ou’re _really_ gonna stab me?” he asks, and that’s when Asuna drives the blade straight into his leg. “Jesus fuck!”

His eyes shift to his HP bar in the corner of his vision, but it doesn’t flinch from it’s usual and green, even with the blade sticking out of his thigh. Asuna’s brow is furrowed with thought as she stares at him, and Agil is looking at Asuna with a mix of admiration and fear on his fice.

She pulls the Rose’s Revenge from his thigh in a quick, smooth motion, the wound closing as if it had never been there at all. “So it  _ doesn’t _ do damage in the safe zones,” she mumbles under her breath.   
  
She looks up in surprise when Kirito places his hand firmly on her shoulder. “Asuna, I am literally begging you to never do that ever again.” 

The girl flashes a grin in response; a true smile, not her smooth-faced smile for guild events, but the smile that makes Kirito’s heart contract in his chest. “Of course not,” she promises sweetly, and she’s almost definitely lying, but Kirito can’t bring himself to particularly care. “But we need to get to the bottom of this,” she says, expression returning to somber. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this sword.” 

“It does have ‘revenge’ in the name,” Agil points out. “That’s almost never a good sign.” 

Kirito snorts, rising to his feet. “I think we have more interviews to conduct, Madame Commander,” he says, offering Asuna a hand. “And thank you for all your help, Agil.” 

Asuna takes his hand and pulls herself up, the Rose’s Revenge vanishing back into her inventory. “The K.o.B will send over some col for your help with the investigation,” she tells the shopkeeper warmly. “Really, Agil, thank you so much for your help.

The bigger man beams. “Thank  _ you _ ,” he returns, clapping Asuna on the shoulder. “You stay safe, alright?” 

“You too!” she replies as Kirito holds his hand out for a fist bump. Agil obliges, knocking their knuckles together, and with another round of waving and farewells Kirito and Asuna head out into the late afternoon sunlight together.

“Back to Yoruko’s room?” Kirito asks, and Asuna pauses, looking down the street at the NPC-run night market that’s beginning to open. 

“Am I a terrible person if I say dinner first?” she asks, looking guilty. “We never got to eat, and… I’m kind of starved.” 

“Not if you tell anyone who asked that dinner was my idea,” he offers. “Come on, we can get hot buns or something and walk while we eat. There’s no point trying to get work done on an empty stomach.” 

Tucking a loose strand of strawberry-blonde hair behind her ear, Asuna grins at him again. He can’t help but wonder if she knows that it makes his heart stutter in his chest every time she does that. “Does it being your idea mean it’s your treat, Kirito-kun?” she asks, batting her eyelashes.  
  
He puts on his best long-suffering expression and gives a heavy sigh, and he’s rewarded by a bright burst of laughter from Asuna. “It’s a date,” he says, offering his arm.

“Well, if you’re paying,” she teases, looping her arm through his as they head down the street together. 

**⚔**

“Does the name Griselda ring any bells?” Kirito asks Yoruko carefully. Talking to the grieving girl still feels like he’s trying to disarm a nuclear bomb of grief if he asks the wrong questions. Yoruko sniffles, but doesn’t burst back into shoulder-wracking sobs, so he counts it as a success. 

“We- we used to be in a guild with her,” she sniffs. “It was me, C-Caynz, Schmidtt, Griselda, and her husband, Grimlock. She, um. She died right before the guild disbanded, in March.”

“How did she die?” Asuna asks gently, and Yoruko takes another deep breath before responding. 

“We had an item,” she whispers. “Griselda kept it on her, and we couldn’t decide if we should sell it or not- it was a ring that added a speed boost,” she explains. “Titan’s Hand wanted it, and- and they killed her to get it.” The girl’s lip wobbles as her eyes fill with tears. “We were cowards! W-we should have done something!” 

“Shh, it’s okay,” Asuna soothes. “Titan’s Hand has disbanded due to the arrest of their leaders,” she reassures Yoruko.

The purple-haired girl stands, backing away towards the window. “It’s not enough!” She wails, covering her face with her hands. “That was one of her swords, wasn’t it! She killed Caynz and now she’s coming for m-me…” she chokes out, eyes going wide as she’s silhouetted in brilliant red light.

“No!” Asuna shouts, diving forwards, and Yoruko turns away, revealing the knife in her back as she reaches out the window towards the figure responsible.

“Griselda,” she gasps, and her body tumbles out of the window, a puppet with it’s strings cut, shattering when she hits the ground below. 

“Kirito-kun,” Asuna snaps, her voice like steel. “Go after that person. Do  _ not _ die.” 

“Copy that,” he replies, already taking off towards the window. His jump manages to clear the street, smacking him into the side of the opposite building before he can regain his footing and haul himself up to the rooftop. The assassin is fast, but not nearly as fast as the likes of Asuna or Silica, and they both know it. Kirito reaches out, his fingers just brushing their black cloak, and the figure vanishes, a teleport crystal clutched in their first.

“Fuck!” Kirito hisses, coming to  standstill. God, he hates not-knowing, hates the little seeds of worry and fear that weave through them as the supposed killer escapes. It clouds his mind for a long moment, but one thought manages to push it’s way to the forefront of his mind.

_ Their cursor wasn’t orange. _

They  _ couldn’t _ have killed Yoruko, then. There was no way to do damage in a safe zone, and definitely no way to player-kill without turning your cursor orange. Which meant either someone else had killed Yoruko, or… she isn’t dead at all. 

“Asuna,” Kirito whispers, a new flood of worry coursing through him, and he’s off like a shot back the way he came. If the whole thing had been an assassination plot, if he had left her alone and she had gotten hurt, or  _ died, _ he wouldn’t- he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

He nearly slams into her with his jump back through the window, and her rapier is at his throat in an instant; her eyes wide and panicked. “Oh, thank god,” she whispers when recognition kicks in. She throws her arms around him and squeezes tight, clinging to him like a lifeline. “You didn’t die!” 

“ _ You _ didn’t die,” he responds, voice heavy with relief as he hugs her back. “I thought it had been a distraction, that you- that they were going after  _ you _ , because-” 

“Yoruko’s not really dead,” she finishes, pulling back to look him in the eye, her hands coming up to cup his face. “I thought  _ you _ were the real target, that I had sent you on a suicide mission.” 

Kirito gives a weak chuckle. “You really think I’m that easy to get rid of?” 

“I couldn’t lose you if I tried,” she replies fondly, pulling him back for another quick hug. “But, wait- how did you figure it out? About Yoruko?”

“The assassin was a green-cursor,” he replies, gesturing above his head. “They got away, but…” 

“They couldn’t have killed her,” Asuna confirms. “She didn’t block me- she’s still on my friends list. But I can’t figure out  _ why _ go to all this trouble, cause all this drama, just to fake her death?” 

“Because they’re sociopaths?” He suggests, collapsing into one of the chairs. Asuna gives him a flat look, sitting across from him. “Okay, maybe they’re not, but you gotta admit, motives are kind of scarce here.” 

“What about revenge?” Asuna asks quietly. “Yoruko and Caynz are assumed dead. What’s to stop them from going after Schmidtt and Grimlock and  _ really _ avenging Griselda? Think about it, Kirito-kun. She said Titan’s Hand caused Griselda’s death in _ March.” _

“Wren and Rosalia were arrested in February,” he says, slowly.

“Which means we’ve got a resurrection group on our hands, or she was lying to us the whole time,” Asuna confirms. “And given Yoruko’s track record, I don’t  _ really _ think Titan’s Hand has anything to do with this at all.” 

“So…?” Kirito slumps in his chair. “What next? Do we track them down, or…?” 

Asuna leans over to pat his cheek. “That’s what grunt knights are for,” she says. “You and I are going to go interview some more people.” 

He makes a face. “Eugh, talking to people.” 

Asuna pulls a face back at him. “Will you not complain if I let you do your silent, brooding, Black Swordsman shtick?” 

“Don’t call me that,” he grumbles. “But yeah, fine, we can do good cop bad cop.” 

The grin she gives him is a wicked thing, now, as she rises to her feet. “Oh, Kirito-kun,” she laughs. “Who said anything about there being good cop?” 

Kirito is really, really,  _ really _ glad that she’s on his side. 

**⚔**

_ april fifteenth, 2024 _

Kirito would say Grimlock acts like a rat, but he’s pretty sure Argo, along with literally all other rats, would take offense. He’s a small man, dressed in merchant’s clothes, and he’s  _ simpering _ at asuna. Kirito has decided he does not like it when people simper at Asuna. 

“And who would your companion be, Commander Asuna?” he asks, and Kirito aims his glare at the man. Grimlock stuffens, just slightly, blinking to look at Asuna again.  _ Good _ . 

“This is Kirito-kun, better known as the Black Swordsman. The K.o.B don’t usually allow anyone but Knights to assist on investigations, but Kirito-kun was an eyewitness to both deaths and is an invaluable help to us,” Asuna introduces.

Grimlock’s eyes flicker back to Kirito. He looks nervous now, his hands constantly finding things to fiddle with, and his gaze darting around the room. “Well, er, what can I help you with? I’m afraid you’ll find I’m just a simple merchant,” he begins, and Kirito stands up from where he’s been leaning against the wall to cut the other man off. 

“I’ll be quite happy to cut to the chase,” he bites out. He lets the boy who had stood in that first floor dungeon and laughed about death smile with his face, the twisted caricature sinking back into his bones as he stalks towards Grimlock, violet gaze locked onto him. “This is about your  _ wife _ , Grimlock.” 

“I- I’m afraid my wife was killed by-

“Titan’s Hand?” Kirito sneers. “Yeah, we’ve heard. But see, those dates just don’t add up,  _ buddy _ . Because I personally oversaw the dismantling of Titan’s Hand, a month or so before your wife died.” Referring to cutting Wren’s arm off as ‘dismantling of Titan’s Hand’ is probably a bit of a stretch, but Grimlock has his back up against the counter of his shop and is leaning as far away from Kirito as he can. 

“Kirito-kun.” He isn’t sure how Asuna manages to convey so much command and energy just by saying his name. “Stand down.” 

He bares his teeth at Grimlock just to see him flinch before turning and pacing back to Asuna’s side. She touches his hand briefly before making her own way across the floor, feet barely making a sound until she’s taken Kirito’s place in front of Grimlock. “I suggest you tell us the truth,” she says, voice soft but pitched to carry. “Kirito-kun is a bit of a pitbull, sometimes- he doesn’t always come when he’s called.” 

It’s not worded like a threat, necessarily, but the implication is there. It makes his skin crawl, the implication that he’s some sort of berserker, an uncaring force of rage. It makes him want to go and find Silica and help her kill monsters without thinking about anything else, forgetting about politics and reputation. 

But he doesn’t. Instead, he stands, and he watches Asuna’s back. 

“I- It wasn’t Titan’s Hand!” Grimlock stutters. “T-they threatened me- It was Laughing Coffin! The real guild was Laughing Coffin, I swear it!” 

“Are you sure?” Asuna asks quietly, fingers dancing along the hilt of her rapier. “There’s nothing else you need to confess?” 

“I can always jog his memory,” Kirito calls, and Grimlock jerks back.

“Please,” the man says. “I’m telling the truth. Please.” 

Asuna takes her hand off of her sword. “Okay,” she says, suddenly brusque. “Then we have no further business here. Kirito-kun, come,” she commands, walking towards the door. He doesn’t move, for a moment, so she stops and turns around. “ _ Come. _ ”

He looks back at Grimlock as he dutifully follows Asuna out of the shop, and when the shopkeeper looks up, he grins. 

They walk around the block, and Kirito makes it around the corner and into an alleyway before his breath starts to catch, his lungs feeling to big for his chest; and soft, careful hands lead him against the wall as tears blur his vision. Vaguely, he registers Asuna speaking to him as he sinks to sit on the ground, shoulders shaking as he chokes out panicked breaths. 

The blur of red and white that is Asuna is gently pushed away and replaced with an array of blacks and browns, a rough, calloused hand coming to rest against his chest.

“Hey, Kiri-bou, stay with me,” Argo says. “You’re safe, okay?” 

“My fault,” Kirito manages to choke out. “ _ My fault. _ ” 

“It wasn’t,” the rat replies firmly. “None of it was. You’ve just gonna breath, Kirito, okay? With my hand,” she instructs. 

He doesn’t know how long he sits there, with him struggling to breath and Argo’s calm reassurance as she moves the gentle pressure of her hand in and out. She spends the whole time whispering calm reassurances, and by the time he gives a last, heaving sob, it’s dark. 

“I’m sorry,” Asuna whispers, and Kirito lets his head fall back against the wall, looking anywhere but at her.

“Did it at least work?” He asks, voice rough, and Argo finally pulls away from him. She tosses a small silver and blue ring to him, crossing her arms. 

“You were right, Kiri-bou,” she says. “Married couples have shared inventories. This is the ring that Schmidtt described when you interviewed him.” 

“That’s enough evidence to make an arrest,” Asuna says. “But if you still want to, we can find Yoruko and Caynz first.” 

Kirito sighs, his shoulders slumping. “I want to- I want to see my sister,” he says, voice cracking in a way that’s awful and embarrassing and makes everything that much worse. “Can we just. Can we not be swordspeople, for a little bit? Can we just go and just-  _ not? _ ” 

“Asuna already called Silica,” Argo says. “She told us to go to that little park down on twenty-three? She’s bringing cake, and Klein.” 

“Awesome.” Kirito takes a deep breath and slowly pushes himself to his feet. “Thanks for- for this, both of you.” 

Asuna and Argo share a glance as they stand. “Of course, Kirito-kun,” Asuna says gently, offering her hand. “You’re our friend, and we love you. I love you,” she repeats. “And friends have each other’s backs.” 

“I- I love you too,” he says, and it feels like more, even though it’s not. “Both of you,” he continues, taking Asuna’s hand and offering his other to Argo.

“Aw, shucks,” the rat says, taking his hand. “Careful, Kiri-bou, or we’ll both be crying.” 

“Affection totally retracted,” Kirito tells her, but they’re all laughing, and despite everything- the memories and violence and sword on his back- despite everything, his heart is still warm. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kirito gets stabbed count: 3
> 
> i'm 20 years old today, so, bonus update! this arc has always given me a lot of grief, but there's one more chapter after this and then we're home free to the lisbeth arc. thanks for sticking with this fic for so long! 
> 
> [here's my tumblr!](https://lovecorpse.tumblr.com)


	12. XI: TO BE IN LOVE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lambent Light fits in Kirito’s hand like he imagines the bow of a violin would- light and delicate but with an undoubtable sense of purpose. He gives it an experimental twist and lunges at their attackers, blade lashing out and scoring a red mark against an assassin’s arm. It’s lighter than he’s used to, and Asuna’s having to hold the Elucidator with both hands to keep it steady, but it works, in its own way.
> 
> “En Garde, motherfuckers,” Kirito calls, and all hell breaks loose.

_ april nineteenth, 2024 _

“You know you’ll most likely be arrested after this, Schmidtt.”

Asuna’s voice is kind, but the man still flinches at her words. His gaze is steely though as he looks back up into the woods they’re walking through. “I didn’t help Griselda before,” he says. “The least I can do is help her now.” 

It had been easy, finding what they needed from Schmidtt. They had found him in a tavern, doing his best to drink them out of stock, sobbing about Griselda and regrets. “He loved her,” Asuna says to Kirito as Schmidtt walks in front of them.” 

Kirito shakes his head. “I can’t believe he let Grimlock… do that. That he  _ knew.”  _

The warm amber of Asuna’s eyes grows dark and cold. “Men do awful things when the women they love don’t love them back.” 

Kirito shakes his head, scowling at the back of Schmidtt’s head. “That’s not love,” he says quietly, firmly. “That’s- that’s wanting, or obsession, but that’s not love.” 

“And you’re an expert?” Asuna asks, glancing at him. “Do tell, Kirito-kun, are you in love? Do they love you back?” 

Thoughts of every time he’s wanted to lean across and kiss her, to pick her up and spin her around, to let Asuna claim and keep and  _ ruin  _ him flood his mind, and he can feel his cheeks warming. “Maybe I am,” he says stiffly. “And maybe they don’t. Interestingly enough, I have yet to be complicit in their murder.” 

Her gaze lingers on him for a few more moments, before finally, after what feels like an age, it drifts back to watching Schmidtt. “Sorry,” she says, almost too quiet for him to hear. “That was a real bitchy thing to say.” 

Kirito gives a lopsided shrug, a quick rise and fall of the shoulder closer to her. “Yeah, kind of,” he admits, “but it was a fair question, Asuna. You have every right to question me.” 

She opens her mouth to reply, but is cut off by Schmidtt stopping at the edge of a clearing. “I’m here,” he calls out. “Whatever you want from me, just take it.” 

“You helped kill her,” an eerie voice calls out.  _ Yoruko _ , Asuna mouths. “We want your blood.” 

“You killed her,” another voice joins in, a few octaves lower. “You must pay.”

“I  _ loved _ her!” Schmidtt shouts, stepping into the clearing fully, fists clenched.

He’s met with a dry chuckle. “Loving another man’s wife?” Grimlock taunts, stepping out of the shadows. “Maybe you should pay in blood.” 

Yoruko and Caynz, cloaked in grey, step into the clearing, and the remaining members of what used to be the Golden Apple Guild stare each other down. 

“Yoruko, Caynz,” Grimlock greets, and the couple jerk back in surprise. “Yes, I know it’s you,” the merchant says with a wave of his hands. “Rumor has it you died.” 

“You can’t arrest a dead woman,” Yoruko says, with an air of confidence Kirito never saw from her, shrugging her hood off. “We know, Grimlock. You killed her. It’s  _ over _ .” 

Grimlock smiles. “Yoruko, darling, it’s  _ never  _ over.” From the trees behind him, three figures in masks and cloaks emerge, all bearing the same mark- a grinning coffin emblazoned in white on their chests. 

“Laughing Coffin,” Kirito breathes, his blood running cold. 

With a jerk of Grimlock’s head, one of the Laughing Coffin assassins darts for Yoruko, and with the rustling of grass from Kirito’s side, Asuna darts to intercept. The clash of their blades rings across the clearing as the assassin leaps back, leaving Asuna standing like some holy avenger in white. 

“Try it again and I’ll do more than just parry the blow,” she calls. “Grimlock, you’re guilty of murder and conspiring with a known red guild- come peacefully and no one has to get hurt.” 

Grimlock raises his eyebrows. “Murder?” He asks, voice thin with mock innocence. “The only thing I’m guilty of is disciplining my wife.” 

Kirito expects Asuna to snap back something vicious and cold and sharp, but instead she lets out an inhuman snarl and leaps for Grimlock, all messy form and no sword skills. Her side is wide open, and one of the Laughing Coffin assassins moves to meet her, their sword coming up in a deadly arc towards her stomach. Everything moves slowly in that moment, as Kirito watches the two figures slice towards each other, both with strikes intending to kill. His mind falls blank, all of his skills and abilities clearing from his mind; so he does the only thing he can think to do.

He throws his sword. 

The Elucidator flies from his hand and flips handle over blade twice before clanging against the assassin’s sword, knocking it aside. Both Asuna and the assassin stop short, heads whipping around to look at him in disbelief. “Don’t you fucking touch her,” Kirito growls.

“Ah,” Grimlock says idly, though surprise does color his voice. “Your… pitbull, was it, Commander? Not particularly clever, leaving himself unarmed,” he comments. 

Asuna rises to her full height, the Lambent Light held loosely in her hand, and she smiles. This is not like the private grins she shares with Kirito, not like the quick smiles that accompany her laughter- this is bared teeth and violence, barely contained anger shining in her eyes. “He’s with me,” she tells Grimlock. “He’s never truly unarmed.” 

“The young lady thinks herself a weapon!” Grimlock laughs, and Asuna cocks her head to the side, just slightly. 

“Nah,” she replies. “The young lady just thinks she’s smarter than you.” 

When she moves it’s like the crack of a whip, flipping her grip on her rapier and tossing it, handle-first, to Kirito. She drops to the ground and scoops up the Elucidator in its stead, both hands wrapping around the hilt of the blade as she uses it to parry the attack aimed at her back. 

The Lambent Light fits in Kirito’s hand like he imagines the bow of a violin would- light and delicate but with an undoubtable sense of purpose. He gives it an experimental twist and lunges at their attackers, blade lashing out and scoring a red mark against an assassin’s arm. It’s lighter than he’s used to, and Asuna’s having to hold the Elucidator with both hands to keep it steady, but it  _ works _ , in its own way. 

“En Garde, motherfuckers,” Kirito calls, and all hell breaks loose. 

Yoruko, Caynz, and Schmidtt’s fighting skills are nothing to scoff at, their time in SAO obvious from the way they move through the fray. Schmidtt rushes forwards to block the Laughing Coffin assassin’s opening strike with his shield, Yoruko and Caynz flanking to trap their enemy between the three of them. The remaining assassins rush Kirito and Asuna respectively, and the two of them rise to meet them, holding each other’s weapons as they move as one. 

Asuna swings the Elucidator overhead in a vicious two-handed strike that the assassin barely manages to dodge, her speed still undeniable despite the weight of the weapon. Kirito drives the Lambent Light upwards, blade nicking the cheek of the cloaked figure but overall missing. He curses, ducking back and readjusting his grip on the sword. Asuna does the same in the corner of his vision, and then the duo are ducking forwards again. 

Kirito has seen Asuna fighting more times than he can count, has let himself stare as she dances through the battlefield. He’s watched her back, she’s watched his, they’ve fought a dozen battles side by side throughout their time in Aincrad. He knows how to use this sword, even if he’s never done it before. 

“If you break that, you’re buying me a new one, and Liz isn’t cheap!” Asuna calls, and he scoffs, ducking around the assassin’s knife. 

“Same to you!” he yells, as she jumps over a swing aimed at her ankles. 

There’s something just short of unnerving about being faster than Asuna, the weight of the Elucidator slowing her down. Kirito gets why she wouldn’t protest a title like Lightning Flash- he  _ feels _ like lightning, quick and vicious and deadly, strikes moving so fast he can barely see the point of his own sword. Seeing Asuna fight with the heavy, brutal pace the Elucidator demands is it’s own kind of exhilarating, too, the refracting light of the sword casting rainbows with every purposeful, thunderous swing. 

“Kirito-kun, down!” She calls, and he obeys without the slightest fraction of hesitation; dropping to his knees and leaning back as Asuna carves the Elucidator through the air over him, sending it straight into the chest of the his foe, who’s knife had been about to sink into his chest. Kirito rocks back up onto his feet, driving the Lambent Light through the shoulder of the assassin who’s blade is aimed at Asuna’s neck. 

“You shouldn’t have taken your eyes off of us,” a voice says, and the fight stills as all heads turn to Yoruko, who has Grimlock in a chokehold, her knife at his throat. 

“I suppose you’ve won, then,” the lead assassin rasps, voice warped into a static-filled mess by his mask. “We know when to retreat.” 

Neither Asuna or Kirito are fast enough to stop the teleport crystals from activating, and Asuna swears in frustration as all three assassins fade from view. 

“Fuck!” she curses, whipping around the stare down the former members of the Golden Apple guild. “I really hope your little grudge match is worth distracting me from capturing three of the deadliest people in Aincrad.” 

Caynz scowls at her. “They  _ killed  _ our guild leader, an innocent woman!” 

“They’ve killed  _ dozens _ of innocent players, and now they can kill dozens more!” Asuna snaps back, eyes blazing. “You have wasted days of my time with your theatrics and misdirection, playing at this like some sort of mastermind duo!”

Caynz’s face contorts in fury. “We didn’t ask you to stick your nose in and ruin everything!” 

Snatching her rapier out of Kirito’s grasp and dropping the Elucidator, Asuna darts forwards and holds her blade to the man’s throat. “Your cursor is orange right now,” she says, voice soft. “If I kill you here, no one will ever know.” 

Her grip on her sword goes slack as Kirito gently but firmly presses the point of his blade between her shoulder blades. “I would know,” he tells her. “You would know. And unless you plan on killing me, too, I’m not going to let you do that.”

It’s not a question of if she  _ could _ kill him. Kirito knows that she could. It’s the question of if she  _ would _ . 

For a moment, she is completely still, like a statue save for the gentle breeze tugging at her hair. “Grimlock,” she says, and then she clears her throat. “Grimlock,” she repeats, “you are guilty of conspiring to murder, domestic abuse, and conspiring with red guilds,” she says, voice flat. Her grip returns, and as Kirito lowers his sword she turns to point the blade at Grimlock. “You will serve time in Aincrad’s jail, and upon our return to the real world, your crimes will be handed off to the court of law.” 

Grimlock goes slack in Yoruko’s arms, his face suddenly seeming a million years old. “You don’t get it, do you?” He asks. “We’re never getting out of here. Whoever you are in here is who you are forever. My wife decided she would rather be Griselda then Annie, so…” 

The realization slams into Kirito like a sucker punch, knocking the air out of his lungs. “You… you were married in the real world?” Schmidtt asks in a sort of daze. 

“It was never about the item,” Grimlock confirms. “I wanted to preserve my Annie before I lost her forever to this game,” he laments, hanging his head. “I was doing her a servi-” 

The rest of his sentence is cut off by a choked gurgle as Yoruko slides her knife across his throat in one clean motion. “I couldn’t listen,” she says, eyes filling with tears as she steps away from Grimlock, the merchant shattering into light. “I couldn’t hear him talk about her like that.” 

Asuna stares blankly as Yoruko’s cursor turns orange, her eyes focused on where Grimlock had fallen. “Go,” she says, voice empty, and she has the look in her eye that Kirito hates, the look like she’s a million miles inside her own head. “Go. We won’t follow.”

Yoruko and Schmidtt look almost like they want to protest, but Caynz steers them both into the woods with firm hands. “Thank you,” he he says over his shoulder, and then Kirito and Asuna are alone in the clearing. 

It’s silent for a long moment before Asuna speaks. “Would you really have killed me to stop me?” She asks him as she sheathes her sword. “Could you have done it?” 

_ I think I’m in love with you,  _ he thinks. _ I would let you raze this game to the ground if you loved me back _ , he doesn’t say. 

“No,” he tells her out loud. “I don’t think I could have done it.” 

“Why not?” She asks, voice so small that he can barely hear her. “Take one life to save another, right?” 

_ I love you, I love you, I love you,  _ his mind chants, a looping oath repeated to infinity. He’s tired and the adrenaline of the fight is leaving him, and all there is for a moment is a girl with strawberry blonde hair who had waited to make sure the lonely boy wouldn’t be alone. There is no Commander, there is no Black Swordsman, there is just a broken boy and a broken girl alone together.  _Are you in love_? Asuna had asked him, and that's what she's asking him now, again, even if she doesn't know it. That's always what it will come down to, his love, his loyalty, the way that no life will ever be able to compare to her. 

“I love you,” says, and it feels like taking a breath of fresh air after holding his breath for hours, like swearing fealty to a crown, like the promise of something better. 

“Me?” She asks softly, voice open and soft and unguarded. “Really me?” 

“You,” he promises. “It’s been you from the start.” His heart is pounding in his chest, hands shaking at his sides. “You don’t- If you don’t feel the same way it’s fine, being your friend will  _ always _ be more important than anything else,” he stammers, and Asuna lets out a half-choked laugh, pressing her hand to her face.    
  
“You- you’re an idiot,” she says, and Kirito feels his heart plummet for a moment before she leans down and presses her lips to her cheek. “It’s always been you,” she says, repeating his words as softly as she can. “It’s always been you.” She pulls away and leaves her hand on his chest as she looks down, pink flooding across her cheeks. “I- I can’t be anything, right now,” she tells him, and her hand is like a firebrand, leaving her mark over his heart. “It’s- there’s things I want you to know, but can’t tell you, and- and I can’t ask- it’s not  _ fair _ ,” she manages, voice trembling with emotion. 

Slowly, carefully, he reaches up and takes her hand in his, lacing their fingers together. “I’ll wait,” he promises her. “You’re worth waiting for.”

Asuna tilts her head up, amber eyes meeting his own, and there’s tears spilling down her cheeks but a smile tilting the corners of her lips up. “You will?” 

He brushes his lips against her knuckles, a thread of disbelief winding through him at the fact that he  _ can _ . “For you?” He asks, smiling up at her. “I would wait forever.” 

She looks more sure, now, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear and wiping the tears from her face. “Forever is a long time, y’know,” she tells him, but she’s grinning. 

He shrugs. “Like I said,” Kirito grins, “You’re worth the wait.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't decide if i hate this chapter or love it. happy easter, we got out kirisuna confession boyesssss, but don't fear: there will be plenty more of the weird pining they do for each other. you learn to embrace it. on that note i really need to transcribe more of this from my notebook because im out of transcribed chapters whoops. 
> 
> (also i know this update is early but this fic HAS to be finished posting before next year so the schedule will get a little fucky sometimes.)
> 
> peace x


	13. XII: STARFORGE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _All of the prettiest girls are straight,_ she thinks morosely, resigning herself to helping her crush’s sort-of-boyfriend with his sword. _Ugh, phrasing, Liz,_ she thinks, slumping and pressing her forehead against the cool glass of her main counter.
> 
> She has an inkling that it’s gonna be a very long day.

_ may twelfth, 2024 _

The heat of the forge is blazing, sweat dripping off of her skin, but the woman at the anvil is completely in her element as she hammers the latest upgrade into the metal of the rapier. It’s a beautiful thing, a year’s worth of her best work having gone into it, the cool mint inlay sparkling as the heat fades from the  _ Lambent Light _ . 

She hears the door to her main shop open as she picks up the rapier, carrying it into the display rom to greet her customer. Her face lights up when she sees who it is- Lightning Flash Asuna of the K.o.B, looking over a display case of carved silver throwing picks. 

“You’re right on time,” the blacksmith calls out, lifting the blade for Asuna to see. “I just finished up!” 

“Oh, fantastic! You’re a real gem, Lisbeth,” Asuna replies, taking the blade and looking over the sword. Lisbeth flushes, hoping the other girl won’t notice it against her dark skin. “How much do I owe you?” 

Lisbeth waves her off. “You’re my best customer, Asuna, and a hero on the front lines to boot! You know you don’t pay here anymore, you bring in like half of my customers just by existing!” 

Asuna sticks her tongue out but quickly brightens again. “Speaking of bringing in work, I have a- a friend, and he’s on his way here! I can’t stick around, but you’re gonna  _ love  _ his gear,” she promises the shorter girl.

“This is the guy you’ve been hanging around with?” Lisbeth asks skeptically, raising an eyebrow, and Asuna flushes. “I bet  _ you _ like his gear,” the blacksmith smirks, and Asuna squeaks, holding her hands up. 

“It- it’s not like that, Liz! Jeez, you’re gonna scare him off!” The taller girl says. “He’ll be a good customer, I swear!” 

Lisbeth grins. “Don’t worry,” she says. “I’ll look after your boy-toy. I don’t bite!” 

Asuna smiles back, her face still scarlet. “I know you don’t, Liz. Still, I feel bad just dumping him on you.” 

The blacksmith shrugs, putting her hands on her hips. “Business is business!” She says confidently. “Trust me, I can handle your swordsman for an hour or two. We don’t need a babysitter.” 

Asuna’s smile brightens enough that Lisbeth almost wants to squint. “Tell him I’m sorry I couldn’t stick around, would you?” She asks, ducking down to give Lisbeth a quick one-armed hug and a kiss on the cheek. “You’re an angel, Liz!” She calls over her shoulder as she ducks out into the busy streets of Floor Forty-Eight. 

Moving to sit behind the counter, Lisbeth props her chin up on her hands.  _ All of the prettiest girls are straight _ , she thinks morosely, resigning herself to helping her crush’s sort-of-boyfriend with his sword.  _ Ugh, phrasing, Liz _ , she thinks, slumping and pressing her forehead against the cool glass of her main counter. 

She has an inkling that it’s gonna be a very long day. 

**⚔**

The shop Kirito is looking for is a small stone and brick building, with two beautiful stained-glass windows depicting night skies in the front and several smoking chimneys sticking up near the back. There’s a black sign above the door with bold silver letters proclaiming it the STARFORGE, which, according to Asuna, is the best blacksmith in AIncrad. 

He pushes his way into the shop and is immediately struck by the sight of dozens of weapons, everything from longswords to claymores to battleaxes to falchions, all hung along the walls in a proud display. There’s a veritable rainbow of metals, as well as a fearsome array of shapes and sizes; all with a single thing in common- an engraved emblem of a falling star carved into the metal, familiar from its place on the Lambent Light’s hilt. 

“Wow,” he breathes, taking a few careful steps into the shop and spinning himself in a slow, deliberate circle, trying to drink in the sight of all the weapons around him. 

“They’re all Starforge originals,” a voice from behind him says, dry but proud. He turns to face the short, round-faced woman behind the counter. “You must be Asuna’s boy. I’m Liz.” 

Kirito makes his way over to the counter, eyes still wandering amongst the displays. “Kirito,” he introduces, offering a hand. “This is amazing. I can see why Asuna says you’re the best in Aincrad.” 

Liz takes his hand, her ebony colored skin warm and stark against his deathly pale hand, and she gives it a firm shake. “I don’t know about all that,” she says, a flush of embarrassment across her cheeks, “but I do make some damned good swords.” 

He unhooks the Elucidator from its place at his back and unsheathes it, laying both the sword and it’s sheath across the counter. “Can you make something equal to, or better than this?” 

Liz’s breath catches in her throat. “Is that-?” she asks, fingers reaching out to drag along the onyx blade in a way that’s almost reverent. 

“Yeah,” Kirito answers. “The Elucidator.” 

The swordsmith moves to one of the swords hung on the wall behind her, a red blade with a golden inlay of cherry blossoms. “Use the Elucidator to give that a whack,” she instructs, holding it out to Kirito. “See how it holds up.” 

“Um.” Kirito takes the blade. “Won’t it… break? My sword is  _ really _ strong.” Liz gives him an unimpressed look, placing her hands on her hips. “O...kay,” he agrees reluctantly, picking up the Elucidator with one hand and bringing it down on the other blade. 

There’s a thunderous crack as Liz’s cherry blade snaps in half, the two pieces falling to the ground and vanishing into tiny shards of light. Lisbeth frowns, then holds her hand out. “Sword,” she demands, wiggling her fingers impatiently until Kirito places the Elucidator in her hand. She looks over it for a few moments, pink hair falling in her eyes as she does. There’s a look of utter seriousness on her face as she taps through her menu a few times before finally putting the sword down on the counter. 

“Listen,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Nothing I can make with the materials I have- nothing  _ any  _ smith could make, mind you- would be able to be that thing’s true equal. But-” she leans towards him, pink eyes glittering. “If you’re willing to put in the work and go questing, I know where to get metal good enough to knock that thing’s socks off.” 

“What’s the catch?” Kirito asks, raising an eyebrow. 

Liz frowns. “It’s a doozy,” she warns. “Not only do you need a trained smith’s presence, but… we won’t be the first people to try. Fifteen players have died because of this quest.” 

His eyebrow lifts a little further. “You’re not afraid?” 

She laughs in his face. “Fuck, Kirito, I’m  _ terrified! _ ” she says. “I’m not a fighter, and they want us to go to floor  _ fifty five _ and risk our lives against countless snow mobs, not to mention a mini boss. I’d be crazy if I wasn’t scared of this!” 

“Then why do it?”

She scowls at him, turning to point at the row of swords. “You see that mark?” she asks, gesturing to the engraved emblem of a falling star that marks every single blade in the shop. “That’s a symbol that marks everything I’ve  _ ever made _ . It’s a guarantee of excellence and it’s a status symbol. You know how much I make in a month just because Lightning Flash Asuna uses a blade with that symbol on it?” She leans forwards. “That amount is  _ nothing _ compared to the amount of customers being the Black Swordsman’s personal smith would bring in.” 

She pauses, straightening up and adjusting her apron. “You asked me for a blade that would be equal to your Elucidator. Like fuck I’m going to pass up on this opportunity because I’m afraid.” Liz tosses her hands in the air. “Being afraid is the bread and butter of Sword Art Online! If I stayed home every time I was afraid, I wouldn’t ever leave.”  

Kirito looks her over for a long moment, mulling over his words. “Are you at least able to defend yourself if something goes wrong?” 

With a few taps of her inventory, Liz’s fingers close around one of the most beautiful weapons Kirito has ever seen. It’s a lucerne hammer, almost as long as Liz is tall, made of beautifully detailed pink and silver metal and carved with intricate starbursts and whorls. 

“Like I said, I’m no fighter,” she grins, hefting the polearm to rest over her shoulder. “But I think I can handle myself. You’ll pick me up at eight?” 

Kirito has to wonder if his habit of making friends with delightfully and casually terrifying women says anything about him as a person. If it does, he’s not entirely sure he wants to know what it  _ does _ say. “You can count on it,” he agrees, and he can’t help but feel like he’s just been tricked into doing something incredibly dangerous.

**⚔**

Liz may have just tricked Kirito into doing something incredibly dangerous. Asuna is going to  _ kill  _ her. 

But the boy had practically offered himself up on a pedestal, all nicely gift-wrapped with all the bows and ribbons. If anyone can get her to that metal, it’s the boy that even Asuna trusts to watch her back, the only solo player left brave enough to stand on the front lines. Being the first blacksmith to complete the quest would give her an insane popularity boost, and it would open up so many new opportunities for her work. 

She really hopes neither of them die. 

That really might be the worst part of this whole thing- she  _ likes  _ Kirito. He’s polite, if a little bland (and, y’know,  _ male _ ) for her tastes, but she can see that he’s got a god appreciation for her craft, and it’s easy to see why Asuna is so enamoured with him.

_ UGH. _ She flops face first onto her bed, pressing her face against her pillow and giving a single shriek of frustration. She wants to hate him, she really does- wants to find exactly what his biggest flaws are and tell Asuna all about them, but… But Asuna likes him, well and truly. And Lisbeth likes him too, even if it’s in a different way. 

“Stupid friendly boy,” she grumbles, rolling over to stare at her ceiling. “Using your weird friendly demeanor against me. Awful.”

She can’t help but wonder if he knows how much Asuna likes him. She wonders if Kirito is aware of just how lucky he is to be the object of the other girl’s affections. She can’t help but wonder, idly, if he knows that Liz would kill to be in his shoes.  _ You’re just tormenting yourself, Liz, _ she thinks, running a hand over her face. There’s a horrible knot of anxiety sitting in her stomach that’s only been growing since Kirito left, making her feel like the world is caving in around her. 

_ It’s not like you ever stood a chance _ , she thinks miserably.  _ Stupid male avatar making it dumb and obvious. Stupid transphobic game. _ Liz can feel her throat get tight and her cheeks get hot as tears start to well, the choked off sob echoing around her empty room. She had told Kirito that fear was the constant of SAO, but the real killer? The real killer is the loneliness, the utter solitude Liz finds herself in more often than not. She envies how easily others make their connections, the natural charm Asuna wields so easily.

Making swords doesn’t require charm. All Lisbeth needs is her hands and her brain and she can make anything she could possibly imagine. She’s made hundreds of weapons during her time in SAO, but despite it all, it still feels like she has yet to make a single friend on her own. 

**⚔**

_ may thirteenth, 2024 _

The sunlight reflects off of huge spires of ice, the snow-covered mountain gleaming as Kirito and Lisbeth trudge up one of the narrow paths.

“I don’t understand why they had to make the cold so realistic,” Kirito grumbles, tugging the fuzzy collar of his coat up. “This is just sadistic.” 

“At least you’re tall,” Liz fires back, taking another exaggerated step and watching with dismay as she sinks up to her shins in the cold white powder. “I swear that this game has a vendetta against short people.” 

The icy cliffs of the mountain rise high above them, the peak obscured by fluffy white clouds. It’s beautiful- almost unnervingly so, considering most of the beautiful things in Kirito’s life have ended up being awful deathtraps of some sort. But Liz makes for a good travelling companion- equally grumpy about the cold, but with a vicious streak of determination. From the brief pockets of conversation, Kirito’s managed to decide that he actually really likes the smith. She’s sharp witted and sarcastic, quiet without being cold. 

“So how did you and Asuna meet?” She asks, tugging her cloak tighter around her shoulders. Kirito can’t help the goofy grin that spreads across his face at the mention of Asuna. No matter how juvenile the terminology, he’s still thrilled that she  _ likes  _ him, enough to give him a real chance.

“She paired up with me at the very first boss raid,” he tells Liz, and she snorts. 

“You look like a lovesick puppy,” she informs him snidely, and he just shrugs at her. 

“I mean, I kind of am.” Not trying to hide all of his feelings has turned him into kind of a doofus, or so he’s been told. “She’s just… awesome, y’know?” 

A look of what Kirito can only describe as pure longing flashes over Liz’s face before she tucks her nose under the furry collar of her cloak. “Yeah, I know,” she mumbles, almost too muffled to hear, and they lapse into silence yet again. 

It grows darker the further they get, blue ice and white snow giving way to a vision in greyscale. The cold only grows, leeching the color and brightness until it’s like they’re walking through an old film, dulling even the vibrant pink of Lisbeth’s hair and the sharp violet of Kirito’s eyes as the cloud cover passes around them. 

“When we get there, take cover, okay? Leave the fighting to me,” Kirito instructs, and Lisbeth frowns up at him.

“I can help,” she insists, gesturing to the polearm strapped to her back. “This is my quest too!”

Kirito ducks his head, staring at the snow as he comes to a stop. “If you won’t listen, we turn back now,” he says, holding up a hand when Lisbeth goes to protest. Her mouth closes with an obliging click of her teeth. “You are not an experienced fighter, Lisbeth. This boss could  _ kill  _ you. I’m the one who took you out here, which means you’re my responsibility,” he continues, never once looking up. “If you don’t follow orders, I can’t make sure you’re safe. You  _ need  _ to listen to me.” 

When he finally looks up, Liz’s mouth is still set in an ugly scowl, but there’s a sad kind of understanding in her eyes. “Okay,” she agrees, placing her hands on her hips. “But you have to swear to me that getting back down alive is your first priority. Asuna will never forgive me if I let you die up here.” 

His heart warms at that, and he manages a small smile. “Yeah,” he says. “We’re both going to make it out of this.” 

That’s when the ground below them starts to shake. 

They’re almost at the true peak of the mountain, the cloud cover breaking to reveal a dazzling sky as the mountain heaves underneath them, tossing snow and ice into the air as slowly but surely, the point of the mountain begins to collapse inwards. From the depths of the mountain emerges a glittering creature seemingly carved from cold white metal, sparkling veins of blue, lavender, and indigo slicing through its scales as it rises into the air. 

The duo stares up at the dragon as it flaps it’s wings, rising to blot out all traces of sunlight and casting the peak in shadow. “Oh my god,” Lisbeth whimpers, eyes wide and knuckles white. 

“Maybe it hasn’t seen us,” Kirito suggests quietly, taking a large step back.

The dragon leers down at them and roars, a great thunderous noise, the force of it blowing Kirito’s bangs off of his face. “Nevermind,” he says, drawing his sword. “It’s definitely seen us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LISBETH IS HERE!!!!! AFTER SO LONG FINALLY CHA'GIRL IS HERE  
> anyways this is one of my favorite arcs that i've rewritten. i love liz she's a competent, strong, smart black trans girl and you can't change my mind. 
> 
> also! if you want special access to early updates, there's links on my tumblr that will help you get that! --> [click here!!](https://lovecorpse.tumblr.com/writing) the next chapter of this will be posted there by the end of the day ;)


	14. XIII: A FROSTY RECEPTION

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slowly, carefully, she reaches her hand in the direction that she thinks he fell. Holding her breath and praying to every god she can think of that the dragon won’t see her, she carefully shifts through the snow until her hand connects with skin. Liz nearly sobs in relief, lacing her fingers through his the best she can until he squeezes back.
> 
> They’re both cold, and afraid, and Lisbeth still thinks they might die here, up on this mountain, but- they’re not _alone_. She’s not alone.

Kirito has discovered several tngs in the last fifteen or so minutes. The most prominent discoveries include the fact that his sword can get stuck, quite easily, in dragon hide; and the fact that he is really not a fan of heights.

He thought he had been doing quite well, actually, before the dragon had flown upwards with the Elucidator still stuck in it’s shoulder. It also happened to take Kirito, who was still holding onto the blade’s hilt, with it. Which… isn't ideal, to say the least. Frankly, it’s fucking  _ terrifying _ , and Kirito is really hoping that the beast doesn’t manage to buck him off when they’re this high up. 

He can see Lisbeth, thousands of feet below him, a speck of pink and grey against the icy white landscape. She’s running right towards the pit that the dragon left in its wake, right towards what Kirito can barely make out as a pile of giant, crystalline eggs. 

She screams something that’s lost to the wind and hefts her hammer high above her head, and as she brings it down towards the first egg, Kirito feels himself go weightless as the dragon begins to dive. 

**⚔**

Lisbeth isn’t sure what she’s doing. She used to watch Discovery Channel, is the thing, way back before Sword Art Online happened; and she knows threatening offspring is the number one most effective way to get things to try and kill you. Which is why she’s charging the giant nest, why she’s bringing the flat end of her hammer down with a resounding  _ crack _ that splits the egg into dozens of tiny shards. 

A glance upwards tells her that the dragon is most definitely still hurtling down at breakneck speeds, Kirito still hanging from it’s shoulder as he shrieks something down at her. He’s yanking at the Elucidator, feet struggling to find purchase against the scales as he tries to pull his blade from the dragon’s hide. The wind is howling loud enough that Liz can barely hear herself think, barely hear what he’s screaming above the din- 

“DROP!” Kirito screams a final time, the sword finally pulling free from the dragon as he falls like a comet right towards her. Every single one of her instincts is screaming for her to run, to save herself, but-  _ you need to listen to me _ , Kirito had said, deadly serious.   
  
If Asuna can put her life in his hands, so can she. 

Lisbeth drops face first against the snowy ground, dropping her hammer to cover the back of her head and neck with her hands. Something small hits the ground near her with a  _ whump, _ and then something much larger settles into its nest, it’s metal body radiating cold as it mourns the loss of one of it’s eggs. As slowly as she can manage, she turns her head, trying to peer through the snow that’s rapidly piling over her, but all she can see is white. She must be nearly invisible with the coating of frost over her, and she can’t see any signs of Kirito, either- her only indication that he survived the fall at all is his health bar in the corner of her vision, slowly rising from orange to yellow to green. 

Slowly, carefully, she reaches her hand in the direction that she thinks he fell. Holding her breath and praying to every god she can think of that the dragon won’t see her, she carefully shifts through the snow until her hand connects with skin. Liz nearly sobs in relief, lacing her fingers through his the best she can until he squeezes back.

They’re both cold, and afraid, and Lisbeth still thinks they might die here, up on this mountain, but- they’re not  _ alone _ . She’s not alone. 

It feels like they lie there for an eternity, hands clasped tight under the snow as they shiver. Eventually, the dragon lifts itself away from its nest, satisfied that the threat is gone as it lifts its head to roar at the night sky, rattling even the stars above. 

Enough snow has built up around her that Kirito has to help dig her out, pulling her shaking body up and wrapping her in his coat. “You were amazing,” he tells her, in that same goofily earnest voice he uses to talk about Asuna, and Lisbeth’s ears go red under her hair. 

“S-shut up,” she says, knocking her shoulder into his. “You r-r-rode a d-dragon.” She pauses, pulling the cloak tighter around herself. “F-fuck, it’s cold.” 

“Yeah,” Kirito agrees, and he’s not shaking like she is, but his lips are slowly turning blue. “Let’s go home.” 

“I’m g-going to climb into my f-f-furnace,” she informs him, before frowning. “We d-didn’t get it, d-did we?” Disappointment lances through her, but Kirito is grinning and opening his inventory. “No,” she says, jaw dropping. “H-how?” 

“When I pulled out my sword, this came with it,” he confirms, lifting the hunk of ore so she can see it. It’s the same cool white as the dragon, gem bright streaks marbled through it, and it gives off a faint glow in the moonlight as Liz grabs for it, clutching it to her cheek. 

“O-okay,” she says happily. “We can go, now.” 

**⚔**

The best part of Lisbeth’s house is how warm it is. She lights up all of her furnaces, and Kirito lets her lean into his side as they sit together in the back room, letting warmth seep back into them while Lisbeth scribbles into a notebook. She occasionally lets Kirito peek over her shoulder at the pages of drawings and notes- an idea of the edge of the blade, a pattern for the hilt. 

“Why do you want another sword anyways?” She asks eventually, chewing on the end of her pencil. “The Elucidator is one fine piece of metal.” 

Kirito gives a lopsided shrug, doing his best not to jostle her. “It’s not indestructible,” he replies. “I want to have something equally good, just in case.

Liz twists to look at him. “It’d be damn near indestructible if you actually brought it in for maintenance,” she tells him flatly, raising her eyebrows, and Kirito chuckles sheepishly.

“I’ll… start?” He offers, and Liz just sighs and ducks her head back down to look at her notes. “I’ve never really found a blacksmith that could do the Elucidator justice. I think Asuna assumed that I had my own, so she never told me about you.” 

Liz rolls her shoulders, sketching out another blade. “I’m the K.o.B’s best kept secret,” she jokes, flipping around her sketchbook to show him. The page is filled with here loopy handwriting, calculations and notes about code crammed into the margins around the sketch of the sword. 

It’s a long, white blade, edged in purple so dark it’s nearly black, the hilt and crossguard etched with an overlapping pattern of scales. There’s several sketches for inlays doodled near the bottom of the page, everything from roses to sunbursts. Kirito reaches out and taps one, his finger dragging against the paper. “That’s the one,” he tells the smith, his eyes fixed on it. “I want that one.” 

“Predictable,” Liz chides, but there’s a soft smile on her face. “You’re sure?”

He nods, still transfixed by the drawing. It’s a delicate arc of lightning, designed to streak down the flat of the blade, colors blending and breaking to make rainbows across the drawing. The homage is so obvious that it makes Kirito’s cheeks flush and throat feel tight. “Where did you learn all of this?” he asks. “The art, the coding?” 

Lisbeth looks away. “I played a lot of Minecraft as a kid,” she answers, voice tinged with embarrassment. “I learned how to code so I could make stuff there, and then I found out about the personalization tools in SAO, and it seemed so perfect. As for the art-” she breaks off, turning to look at the far wall. “My father taught me.” Her voice is barely more than a whisper, tears welling in her eyes as she stares.

Kirito follows her gaze, and he can just make out the photograph hung on the wall- Lizbeth, her hair a natural black that makes her pink eyes stand out that much more, standing proudly next to a taller man with the same pink eyes and dark skin, his hair pulled into long dreadlocks. Kirito doesn’t ask what happened while Liz tries to compose herself, but he does loop an arm around her shoulder. 

“Sorry,” she mumbles, voice thick with tears. “Ugh, I barely know you and I’m being such a crybaby.” 

“I think I might be cursed,” he tells her, voice low like he’s sharing a secret. “Girls keep crying whenever I’m around.” 

Liz lets out a wet laugh at that, scrubbing at her face. “If you want to call your ugly mug a curse, I won’t stop you,” she snarks, and Kirito summons his best gasp of mock offense. 

“After all we’ve been through!” he cries, and she laughs again, shifting to look at him properly. 

She gets her laughter under control and gives him an embarrassed smile. “Sorry for crying on you,” she apologizes, voice small. “It just- it still hurts. He wouldn’t have played if I hadn’t asked him to.” 

Kirito’s heart lurches in his chest, his own sorrow threatening to swallow him whole. “He’d be proud of you,” he manages. “You… you’re honoring him, with this. With your art.” 

She sniffles, wrapping her arms around herself. “It doesn’t feel like enough.” 

“It never will,” he confides, his voice tight. He clears his throat, looking up at the ceiling. “I… I was part of a guild, once. They didn’t know I was a clearer, and… we got caught in a bad trap. I was the only one who made it out alive.” He’s never told anyone the full story before. Some people know, or have guessed, or have made assumptions, but he’s never said it out loud, not even to Asuna. “If I hadn’t lied, they all might still be around.” 

“How do you honor them?” Lisbeth asks softly, and the question hits him like a sledgehammer. 

“I remember,” he answers honestly, voice cracking. “The Moonlit Black Cats won’t ever die, not truly, because I’m never going to forget them. I fight for them every day that we’re still here.” He can’t look at Liz, because he’s scared of what he’ll see in her face. Hatred, pity, horror, the thought of seeing any of those in her eyes is enough to make his stomach turn. 

But when she speaks, her voice is thoughtful. “Let me honor them too,” she says, reaching for the Elucidator and pulling it into her lap. “Give me both swords. You can take a lonor for a day or two, and- and I’ll make sure they’re honored too, Kirito. I swear it.” 

He works up the courage to let his eyes meet her, and she looks… not excited, no, but determined, focus. It reminds him of how Asuna looks when they’re at the war council, sometimes, focused with an uninterrupted precision that writes itself across her face. “Okay,” he says, reaching up to wipe his eyes. “I trust you.” 

Lisbeth smiles, wiping the remainders of her own tears away. “Thank you,” she tells him. “I promise this won’t be a mistake.” 

**⚔**

_ may sixteenth, 2024 _

Kirito is going to be here literally any minute, and the sword still isn’t  _ done _ . The Elucidator is sitting proudly off to the side, polished and sharpened and sporting a fresh engraving- a simple silhouette of a cat, looking as if it’s sitting on the crossguard. But it’s sister, the blade she’s started calling the Shadowcutter, is still sitting on her anvil, red-hot and gleaming. Lisbeth has her work hammer out and the sword’s code window open, but it’s not quite  _ perfect _ yet. 

She hears the door to her shop open, and she scowls at her workshop door. “Kirito, if you come back here before I tell you to, I’ll run you through with your own sword,” she calls, tapping in another line of code. 

“What about me?” Asuna calls with mock sweetness, creeping the door open. “Can  _ I  _ see?” 

Lisbeth turns her head to hide her blush but grudgingly waves the other girl in. Asuna gasps when she sees the sword, and a rush of pride surges through Liz’s chest as she looks over it again. The Shadowcutter has a white hilt and crossguard, the metal of the crossguard designed to look like a starburst radiating up from the grip. The edges of the blade itself are dark purple and razor sharp, designed to catch light when it moves, and the metal is opalescent white, the lighting design shimmering with colors. 

“It’s  _ gorgeous _ ,” Asuna breathes, leaning over to get a better look. “How is this not done? Liz, it’s perfect!” 

“It’s  _ not _ ,” Liz insists, running a hand over her face. “It’s missing something!” 

ASuna leans back and puts her hands on her hips. “What could it possibly be missing?” She asks. “Come on, I’d give this the Lightning Flash seal of approval any day.” 

“Lightning Flash,” Liz repeats, her eyes widening. “Asuna, you’re a genius!” She jumps up and starts to rifle through drawers of supplies, searching for one she had been saving for a special blade. “Asuna, you’re a genius!” 

The overlay sinks perfectly into the blade with a few smacks of her hammer, and it seamlessly blends with her code as the metal starts to cool. “Grab the sheath, will you?” She asks the other girl, snatching up both blades and bustling out into the store. 

Kirito is loitering, the electric-blue loaner she had given him resting on the counter. He’s all bundled energy, like a little kid on Christmas morning, fingers tapping anxiously at his side. “Can I finally see?” He asks, and Liz grins, drawing the swords out from behind her back. He takes the Elucidator from her first, his expression going soft at the sight of the little cat it now bears. “It’s perfect,” he says quietly, smiling at her. “Thank you.” 

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” she replies, handing over the Shadowcutter. “Use a sword skill when you test it,” she prompts, bouncing in place as he raises an eyebrow but compiles. 

The sword skill lights up the sword blue, the final overlay sparking to life as the lightning inlay mimics the color of the skill, blue lightning flashing down the side of his blade as it arcs through the air. Liz hears Asuna’s sharp gasp from behind her as she watches Kirito’s eyes go wide. “It’s called the Shadowcutter,” she says proudly. “The Elucidator’s equal, and the best blade I’ve ever made.” 

Kirito runs his hand over the edge of this sword. “Lisbeth, this is amazing,” he tells her, “it’s better than anything I’ve ever seen. How much do I owe you for it?” 

Liz shakes her head, crossing her arms over here chest. “You risked your life for that metal, Kirito. You  _ rode a dragon _ for that metal. Even if you hadn’t, you don’t pay here- you just tell every sucker you can just who made that blade.”

He looks a little alarmed. “Liz, I can’t  _ not _ pay you,” he protests. 

Quick as a whip, she jumps her own corner and marches up to him, standing on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Then you repay me by taking care of our girl,” she whispers, ducking back before he can reply. Something in her chest tightens, but she smiles up at him anyways. “Deal?” 

His eyes dart to Asuna, and then back to Liz, cheeks scarlet. “Deal,” he manages, and it hurts, knowing that she’s giving up with this, that they love each other, but despite it- she’s honoring the people she loves, making blades here. She’s not alone, because with every blade she makes, she carries her father and her friends with her. 

She’ll always have that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello! i really like lisbeth & kirito's friendship, can you tell?  
> next update will be the 26th of may on ao3, but if you want the chapter a week in advance (and ALL chapters a week in advance) you should check out my [blog](https://lovecorpse.tumblr.com/writing) for more info! 
> 
> also, to everyone who comments- bless your hearts, really! it's so sweet to read your support & it's what keeps me going.
> 
>  **UPDATE!** hi guys! so sorry about this, but this last week has been really hard on me, and there's gonna be a delay on the chapter preview/early access until next week. That means the early access will be going up on the 26th, and the AO3 update will be on the 2nd of May.  
> once again, i'm sorry for the delay, and hope you all are having a good week!


	15. XIV: DINNER FOR TWO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Man,” Agil says, watching her go. “I can’t believe you gave it to her that easy. You have no respect for the bro code,” he complains, but he’s grinning. “Throwing away years of friendship just for a date.”
> 
> Kirito’s ears go red. “She didn’t say it was a date,” he points out. “Also, I’ve been friends with her for longer than you.”

_ may twenty-second, 2024 _

The only sound in the woods is the slight rustle of footsteps as Kirito moves, cloaked in the shadows the setting sun casts amongst the trees. His health bar is steadily dipping lower as he walks, the 《POISON》 effect of the Lizardfolk’s attacks not having worn off quite yet. 

_ This is why you need to be better prepared,  _ The Suguha-voice in his head chides as his health ticks over into orange.  _ Now you’re going to die in the woods, all because you refuse to buy health potions. _

_ I’m NOT going to die _ , Kirito thinks in the direction of the Suguha-voice, continuing to trudge through the woods. “It’s definitely going to wear off before then,” he continues out loud. His brain supplies him with a mental image of Suguha rolling her eyes.

He ducks out from behind a tree and freezes, caught in the gaze of a pair of glowing red eyes. As slowly as he can manage, Kirito reaches for one of the silver throwing picks strapped to his belt, trying not to startle the beast. The rabbit blinks innocently at him as he flicks his wrist, the silver pick glinting in the light before striking it’s neck, killing it. 

_ CONGRATULATIONS! _ his HUD reads as the little beast breaks into shards of light.  _ x1 Item Drop: Ragu Rabbit Meat! _

“Huh,” he says out loud, recalling some conversation-or-other with Liz about rare, S-Class food items. “Neat.”

_ Your HP is red, dumbass _ , the Suguha-voice says.  _ Get moving _ . 

“I think my real sister was nicer to me,” he informs the voice as snidely as he can; even as he picks up the pace. “Typical, though, she’s not even here and she’s managing to boss me around.” 

**⚔**

“Hey, man,” Agil greets as Kirito walks into his store. The larger man squints at where Kirito’s HP must be displaying on his HUD, frowning. “Why are you dying?”

“Potion seller,” Kirito replies in lieu of an answer, voice deadly serious. “Your finest potion, please.” 

Agil snorts, reaching under the counter to grab a little blue bottle for him. “You could not handle my strongest potion, fool,” he replies, tossing the vial to the younger player. 

Kirito catches is in his hand and gratefully knocks back the cool, minty liquid, sighing in relief as the 《POISON》 effect vanishes and his regeneration ability kicks back in. “Did you know that poison stalls HP regen?” He asks Agil conversationally. “Because I totally did not.”

Agil gives an actual laugh this time, leaning against the counter. “What’d you pick a fight with this time, Princess? A poison apple?” He teases, and Kirito laughs along with him. “Why wouldn’t you just teleport back?”

“No crystals,” Kirito explains with a wince. “But hey, walking had it’s perks! Look at what I found,” he continues, tapping open his inventory and opening the Rabbit’s display page. He flips it so Agil can read it, and the merchant’s eyes get comically wide as he does. 

“No way,” he breathes. “Please,  _ please _ tell me you’re selling it.” 

The door chimes behind them, a new voice entering the conversation. “What’s Kirito selling?” Asuna asks, striding into the store in full K.o.B regalia, accompanied by another knight. 

“Ragu Rabbit meat,” Agil answers for him, and Asuna’s eyes widen too. “I know, right?”

“You’re  _ selling _ it?” She asks in disbelief, marching across the store to loom at him. “Whatever Agil is offering you, I’ll double it,” she offers, looking down at him. 

“Woah, woah,” Agil interrupts. “Let’s not be hasty. Why do you even want it?” 

Asuna gives him an affronted look. “I want to  _ cook _ with it,” she explains, cheeks tinted pink. “It’s supposed to be the best ingredient in the game, what else would I do with it?” 

Kirito frowns. “You can cook?”

Asuna’s cheeks darken even further with embarrassment. “It’s fun!” She defends, looking away. “And soothing!” 

Kirito looks thoughtful, putting his hand on Asuna’s shoulder. “I’ll cut you a deal,” he says. “You can have it, but I get half of whatever you make with it.” 

Embarrassment giving way to excitement, Asuna beams, throwing her arms around him. “Oh, thank you thank you thank you!” She squeals, squeezing him so tight his feet come off of the ground. She pulls back to look at him, eyes shining bright amber with passion. “You won’t regret this, Kirito, I promise! You can come over tonight!” 

He’s about to agree when a thin, reedy cough interrupts. “I must protest, Lady Asuna,” the other K.o.B knight who had come in with her says, glaring at Kirito. “Allowing a scoundrel such as the Black Swordsman into your home would surely be a mistake.” 

Kirito blinks. “Scoundrel?” He and Agil ask in sync with each other, both incredulous. Asuna heaves a sigh and places both hands on her hips, turning to face the gaunt man with a scowl on her face. 

“If you’re going to insist on referring to be formally, it’s either Vice Commander Asuna or Dame Asuna,” she corrects, with the air of someone who’s resigned to correcting people about this issue. “And if I recall correctly, Kuradeel, your job is to protect me from red and orange players with negative intent towards the K.o.B,  _ not _ to trifle with my social life.”

Kuradeel straightens, face twisting into an ugly sneer. “It is common knowledge that the Black Swordsman has purposefully caused player deaths before,” he spits, and Kirito’s heart plummets in his chest. “He’s said to have killed whole guilds.”

_ Whole guilds _ rings though his mind like the echo of a gong, reverberating through his skull.  _ Killed whole guilds, your fault your fault your fault- _

Asuna reaches over and laces her fingers through his, pulling him out of his own head, away from that drop. Her gaze is still firmly fixed on Kuradeel, though, typically beautiful features contorted in rage. 

“How  _ dare _ you,” she seethes, voice low and dangerous. “Kirito is not only my dear friend, but he is just as honorable as any Knight. Your behaviour and insulting him is completely unacceptable.” Kuradeel opens his mouth to protest, but Asuna levels her glare at him, silencing him with just a look. “Report back to Heathcliff for insubordination,” she snaps, and Kuradeel’s face goes stony. 

“And get the fuck out of my store,” Agil adds, rising to his full height. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out, asshole.” 

The moment the door shuts behind the knight, all of the anger on Asuna’s face melts away like snow, leaving clear, fresh concern written all over her face. “I am  _ so _ sorry,” she says, releasing his hand to cup his face. “Are you okay? Should I call Silica?” 

Kirito shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. “I’m okay,” he says, breathing out. “I’m… I’m okay.” 

“Why is that guy even following you?” Agil asks, crossing his arms. “I know you don’t usually hang around with creeps like that.”

Asuna frowns, letting go of Kirito’s face. “New orders from Heathcliff, she explains, frustration evident in her tone. “All ranking knights must have a bodyguard at all times. I think the General in charge of it stuck me with Captain Misogyny as a joke.” 

“Yikes.” Agil raises his eyebrows. “You’re seriously still getting flak like that?” 

“It never ends,” she sighs. “But hey!” she continues, brightening, “I get to cook with an S-Class ingredient tonight! I should head to the market,” she flicks through her menu, a trade request materializing in front of Kirito. 

He obligingly sends over the rabbit, ignoring Agil’s groaning about missing out. “Should I bring anything?”

Asuna grins at pats his cheek. “Just yourself,” she replies, planting a kiss on his other cheek. “My place at eight! I’ll send you a map pin,” she promises, waving over her shoulder as she turns. “Bye, guys!” 

“Man,” Agil says, watching her go. “I can’t believe you gave it to her that easy. You have no respect for the bro code,” he complains, but he’s grinning. “Throwing away years of friendship just for a date.”

Kirito’s ears go red. “She didn’t say it was a date,” he points out. “Also, I’ve been friends with her for longer than you.” 

“A girl who actively acknowledges your feelings for her wants to cook you dinner,” Agil says, clapping Kirito on the back with enough force to knock him forwards. “You’re going on a date, pal.” 

**⚔**

It’s only when he’s knocking on her door that he realizes he’s never seen Asuna in casual clothes before. Kirito basically dresses the same regardless of the situation- he’s wearing a black t-shirt and dark grey pants, his usual jacket shrugged on overtop, which is… not too different from his regular outfit. The only time he’s seen Asuna in anything but armor was at the New Year’s party, which was excessively fancy. 

His greeting dies in his throat when he sees her- long hair lifted away from her neck in a messy bun, too-big sweater exposing one shoulder, a gently grin spread across her face. She looks stunning, as always, but  _ relaxed _ in a way he’s never seen before; warm and friendly and comforting. “Kirito, hi!” she greets, stepping aside to let him in. “Come in, I’m about to put the stew in to cook!” 

“Uh,” he replies, face scarlet as he follows her into the apartment. “Awesome.” 

Asuna gives him a puzzled look. “Are you… okay?” 

His face feels like it’s on fire. “You look, um, very nice,” he says stiffly, looking away, and a melodic giggle escapes her. 

“Thank you,” she replies, tugging at the hem of her sweater, cheeks turning pink. “I wanted to look nice, and, uh. Liz said this would be best!” 

Kirito makes a mental note to send Lisbeth flowers next time he gets the chance. 

Asuna leads him into the kitchen, talking as she goes. “I had an NPC at the market recommend what to do with the meat,” she says, gesturing to the admittedly large chunk of rabbit still sitting on the counter next to a large iron pot. “They said strew, so there’s already stock and carrots in there, as well as a few other veggies. All that’s left is this!” 

“You got all of this ready?” Kirito asks, peeking into the pot. “Asuna, that’s so cool!” 

She grins, scooping up her kitchen knife. “Nah, the game makes it easy,” she says, tapping the knife against the meat. It glows pink and forms dozens of little cubes, that rest on the cutting board. “See? Easy. But when we’re back in the real world, I’ll have to make you curry- it’s my best dish!” She scoops the divided meat into the pot and clamps the lid on, sliding it into the oven. “Now it’s just the waiting game!” 

“Curry sounds amazing,” Kirito says softly. It’s not something they talk about often- the real world, going back. It’s almost a taboo amongst frontliners, to discuss the life they could have if they weren’t here, knowing there’s a very large chance they won’t make it back. “My mother would love to share recipes with her- my sister and I only ever cook ramen, so we’re kind of useless in the kitchen.”

“I’ll have to teach you,” Asuna says primly, leading him to the living room. “And I’m sure your mother and I will get along just fine. She’ll have baby pictures to share, right?” There’s two large chairs both facing a crackling fireplace, tilted towards each other just enough to facilitate conversation. Asuna sits in the one on the left, gesturing for Kirito to take the other.

“Not until I take a lighter to the most embarrassing ones,” he counters, taking the other seat. “The thought of you and her in the same room is terrifying, suddenly.” 

She laughs, reaching up to unhook her bun. Without the usual braids to keep it out of her face, it cascades down and softens the shape of her cheeks, making her face look softer and more open. She looks younger, less like a soldier with the flickering light of the fire casting warm hues around as they sit together. It’s easy to lose track of time, sitting with her, trading stories and jokes, laughter peppering the conversation. She’s an intoxicating presence even when she’s acting the part of the full-fledged commander, but the sense of causality makes it feel  _ real. _

“Party up with me,” she offers suddenly. “I want to go exploring the newest dungeon without having to look after other knights. I want- I want to do it with an equal,” she tells him, eyes bright and cheeks flushed. “You don’t have to answer right away- I know you hate going into dungeons with people you care about, but think about it, okay?”

She’s right. He hasn’t gone into a dungeon to explore with others since- well, since the Black Cats. But she’s looking across at him, so bright and hopeful… “Okay,” he promises. “I’ll think about it.” 

_ I don’t want to lose you too _ , he wants to say, but he doesn’t. He knows it’s irrational, because Asuna is amazing at what she does, but every time he thinks about it all of those names flash across his face, memories of Silica injured and Lisbeth reaching for his hand under the snow pile on the guilt until he can’t breath.

He’s saved from the sudden lapse of silence and his own impending breakdown by the timer for the stew going off. Asuna shoos him away to set the table while she serves the stew into two ceramic bowls, placing one at both places on the table. “Here we go!” She says, picking up her spoon. “A real S-Class meal!” 

They both carefully bring steaming spoonfuls to their mouths, and as Kirito closes his lips around his spoon, it’s indescribable. “Ooooohhhh my  _ god _ ,” he mumbles around his mouthful, eyes sliding shut. “Asuna, this is  _ amazing _ .” 

“Mmmmmmhmmm,” she agrees. “Damn, I am  _ good _ .”

“The best,” he informs her, scooping up another bite. “God, I am so glad I didn’t sell this.” 

They eat together until their bowls are clean, peaceful silence falling over the room as Asuna leans back in her chair with a contented sigh, Kirito leaning forwards to rest his chin on his hands. She looks so calm, well and truly serene, no underlying thread of anxiety from her guild responsibilities. He can’t help but stare at her, his eyes tracing the curve of her shoulder, the slant of her jaw, the way her hair tumbles down past her waist. 

_ I love you _ , he thinks. “I’ll party up with you,” he says. 

Her eyes snap open and she sits up straight, leaning forwards across the table. “Really?” She asks. “Really really?”

He nods, and she squeals, darting around the table with that famous speed to tackle him into a hug. The force of it knocks them to the ground, Asuna looking down at Kirito wide-eyed and breathless. He’s flat on his back, one hand up against her waist, heart pounding in his chest. “You’re really excited about this, huh?” He manages to say, one of her feather-light curls brushing against his cheek.

“So excited I could kiss you,” she whispers, and after a long moment of hesitation, that’s exactly what she does. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter stole my uwus!! i fucking LOVE kirisuna goddamn  
> next update will be tomorrow on patreon, and then a week from then (monday the 10th) on here!   
> as always my blog is [@lovecorpse](https://lovecorpse.tumblr.com) !!


	16. XV: TEAMWORK

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You ready to go kick some ass?” She asks, and there’s that little spark back in her amber eyes, lighting them from within. Kirito can’t help but smile back at her, linking their hands together.
> 
> “With you? I’m ready for anything.”

_ may twenty-third, 2024 _

_ Cheerful _ is not a word most people would use to describe Kirito, even on his best days.  _ Cynical, reserved,  _ or even just  _ laid-back _ are all much more common descriptors of his typical demeanor. But waiting outside the seventy-fourth floor’s teleportation hub, a goofy grin spread across his face and a spring in his step, there is really no other way to describe him.

If you asked after his good mood, he would quite gladly inform you that he’s waiting for his newly-established girlfriend, Asuna, to explore a dungeon with her at her request.  _ Girlfriend _ , he thinks giddily, bouncing on his heels.  _ Asuna is my girlfriend! _

It’s… nice, knowing that she feels the same, having something more official than lingering glances and unsaid affections. Suguha would make fun of him for being a hopeless romantic, but Kirito really wouldn’t be able to blame her- he’s pretty openly head over heels for the Vice Commander of the K.o.B, Lighting Flash Asuna, his  _ girlfriend _ . 

The teleport hub lights up blue, almost white with how bright the light is, and Asuna emerges from it at a sprint, crashing right into him and knocking them both to the ground in a sprawl. “Hey, hey, what’s the rush?” Kirito asks, propping himself up on his elbow while Asuna stands, knees shaking. At first, he thinks that it’s from fear or exertion, but she lifts her bangs out of his face and he can see a scowl etched across her face, eyes narrowed in anger. “Asuna, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

She rises to her feet, reaching a hand down to help him up. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes, glancing over her shoulder, “but he just won’t leave me alone!” 

The teleport hub lights up once more, an unfortunately familiar face emerging from it. “Lady Asuna!” Kuradeel shouts as he strides towards them, ensuring that ever head in the square is turned to look their way. 

Asuna gives an honest to god  _ growl _ at the older man, glaring at him. “Go  _ away _ , Kuradeel.” 

He ignores her and continues his stride, drawing a rush of gasps and whispers from the crowd. To follow Asuna around is one thing, but to walk directly towards one of the most powerful players in the game when she’s visibly seething is a bold move. “Lady Asuna, this is wholly inappropriate for a young woman of your station! I am simply following orders,” he protests, and Kirito moves to put himself in between them without even really thinking about it. 

“You’re  _ not! _ ” Asuna stresses, gripping Kirito’s hand tight enough that it almost hurts. “You’re not my bodyguard anymore! Your orders were rescinded, Kuradeel, and you’re  _ ignoring _ a commanding officer’s orders right now!”

He huffs, coming to a stop in front of Kirito, looking down at the couple. “I cannot leave you unprotected,” he says slowly, and Kirito winces. Treating Asuna like a child isn’t going to end well for anyone. “Stop acting so childish and come back to base!” 

To the surprise of Kirito, the gathered crowd, and possibly Kuradeel himself, Asuna doesn’t stab him. She doesn’t rise herself up to her not-so-towering height and towering anger. She flinches back from the words; a full bodied thing of fear, an embedded reaction she couldn’t have stopped if she had wanted to. It’s a reaction Kirito knows painfully well, from years of hiding himself in corners when his grandfather visits, from Suguha’s shaking hands and tiny, almost missable flinches at any slamming doors. Kirito has his sword drawn and at Kuradeel’s throat before he’s even registered how angry he is, before Kuradeel can so much as blink at him. 

“She told you to leave her alone,” he tells the older man, voice carefully stripped of any and all emotion. “I think you’d better listen.” 

Kuradeel draws his own blade, a heavy shortsword of plain steel, and he uses it to guide the Elucidator’s point away from his throat, taking a step back. “You wish to duel me for the lady’s honor, you black-hearted scoundrel?” 

_ Man, I need to start wearing a new color. _ “The commander’s honor,” Kirito corrects, looking over his shoulder at Asuna. “Are you going to be mad at me if I fight him for your honor?”

Her mouth twitches in consideration. “Nah,” she says eventually, squeezing his hand. “Fuck him up for me, babe.”

The pet name brings a smile to his lips as Kirito turns back to Kuradeel. “A duel it is,” he agrees, opening his menu and sending the request across. Kuradeel reads it and accepts, starting the dramatic countdown as the crowd forms a ring for them. The excitement of seeing a K.o.B officer fight the Black Swordsman  _ over a girl _ spreads like wildfire, their audience ever-growing as the clock ticks down. Kirito swings the Elucidator in an elaborate flourish, letting it catch the light and cast little rainbows over the crowd. 

“Hey, jackass,” he calls, delighting in the way Kuradeel goes red with rage. “Here’s a hot tip for you- when a girl tells you to go away, it means they  _ don’t _ want you around.” 

Kuradeel scoffs. “All bark, no bite,” he sneers, readying a sword skill as the timer ticks closer to zero. “Let your sword do the talking.” 

With a chime, the timer hits zero, and Kuradeel charges. The arc of his blade is predictable, slow and heavy, and Kirito ducks back from the swing and brings the Elucidator down on the shortsword, reducing the other blade to fragments or light and bringing the duel to an abrupt end. 

“Why, you little…” Kuradeel snarls, reaching for the dagger at his belt. Kirito slides one of his feet back and hefts the Elucidator again- they’re in a safe zone, but he’s really tired of people stabbing him. Before Kuradeel can even get within stabbing range, there’s a blue of cyan light that trails from Asuna’s sword as she steps in front of Kirito, sending the dagger spiralling from Kuradeel’s hand.

“That is  _ enough _ ,” she snaps, voice frosty with an icy rage Kirito has only heard legends of. “You’re bringing shame not only on yourself, but on your fellow knights. You have no business here and if you continue to act this way I’ll have you stripped of your title, you spineless coward.” Her face is set in a hard scowl, shoulders tight to stop them from shaking. “Go.” 

Kuradeel scowls back, but he obeys, storming back to the teleport hub. The moment he’s out of sight, Asuna’s shoulders slump, all the anger and icy fierceness rushing out of her. “God damn it,” she sighs, running a hand over her face. 

Kirito sheaths his sword and approaches her slowly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “You good?” he asks. “If you want to go home, we can.” 

She heaves another sigh, leaning against him. “I’ll be okay,” she promises quietly. “Just… frustrated.” 

“Rightfully so,” he points out, pressing a kiss to her temple. She pulls away from him and presses a kiss to his cheek, the corners of her lips turning up in a slight smile. 

“You ready to go kick some ass?” She asks, and there’s that little spark back in her amber eyes, lighting them from within. Kirito can’t help but smile back at her, linking their hands together. 

“With you? I’m ready for anything.” 

**⚔**

Sometimes, Kirito forgets how much he loves being on the front lines. It’s a scary thing, knowing you’re going into danger, but the rush of bride and adrenaline knocking out monsters provides us a completely unique feeling. It’s like the drop of a rollercoaster coupled with the pride of winning a sports tournament, all crossed with mild panic that you might be dying. It’s even better with Asuna at his side. She’s like a force of nature, like the very concept of victory brought to life, smart and quick and determined. She watches his back and he watches hers, and together it’s like their invincible, which is a very dangerous feeling in a game like this. 

“Kirito, left!” Asuna calls, and he complies without hesitation, twisting to the side as she darts forwards the spears the final skeleton. “Nice! Another route cleared!” she cheers, offering her hand for a high-five. 

Kirito smacks his palm against hers and beams. “Go us!”

“Go us!” Asuna agrees, leaning forward to peck him on the lips. Kirito’s face flushes scarlet and she grins at him, her own cheeks tinted pink. “Lunch break?” She offers, gesturing to a safe pocket off to the side.

His stomach answers for him, rumbling with hunger. “Lunch break,” he agrees sheepishly. 

They settle with their backs to the stone wall, Asuna pulling a picnic basket from her inventory and revealing two sandwiches inside. “Homemade and everything,” she tells him, handing one over and opening her canister of water, taking a long drink. 

Kirito takes an eager bite, eyes falling shut as the flavor spreads over his tongue. “Oh my god, I love you,” he mumbles around his mouthful before freezing.  _ Crap. _ “I mean, uh,”

Asuna just laughs, scooping up her own food and giving him a fond look. “I love you too, doofus,” she giggles, her blush spreading all the way to the tips of her ears. “It’s okay, you can say it.” 

He swallows his bite, face burning as he looks away. “Oh,” he says softly. “Well, then, thank you for cooking, and, um. I love you? I love you.”

Asuna beams at him, but before she can reply, another voice cuts in. “Weird spot for a date, isn’t it?”

Kirito frowns up at the newcomers. “Klein,” he greets his old friend. “How’d you know we’re dating?” 

The samurai laughs, the rest of his guild coming to a stop around them. Asuna is the one who looks embarrassed, now, ducking her head guiltily. “I told Liz last night,” she admits.

“And Liz told many,  _ many _ people,” Klein informs them gleefully. “Congrats, lovebirds, but it’s still a weird spot for a date.”

Kirito grins up at the older man. “Could you really expect anything else from us?” He asks, setting off a round of laughter. “What brings you and your  _ entire guild _ down here anyways? There’s not supposed to be a raid until after the guild meeting.” 

Klein’s face darkens, features going stony. “This area is a dead zone for messages,” he tells them, “so it makes sense you wouldn’t know yet, but the ALF are planning an attempt on the boss.” 

Kirito’s heart constricts in his chest at the thought, and Asuna is on her feet in an instant, picnic forgotten. “Are the K.o.B sending knights?” she demands, and Klein shakes his head.

“Without you there to sway the vote? No way,” he tells her, voice flat. “Fuurinkazan is the only guild attempting rescue. Everyone else said they brought it on themselves.” 

“We’re with you,” Kirito tells him, rising to his feet, and Klein gives him a grim smile. “How far till the boss room?”

“At the guild’s max speed, accounting for water breaks and rest before the boss, the ALF soldiers will have been in for twenty minutes by the time we get there,” one of Klein’s samurai pipes up. “But you, Commander Asuna, and Klein could catch up without us,” he adds, and Kirito shares a look with his friends.

“We could die,” Asuna points out. “The three of us can’t take on a boss by ourselves.”

“Story of my life,” Klein shrugs. “There’s no one I’d rather die with, and they need our help.” 

_ My life in my hands, their lives in theirs, _ the little voice in his head whispers.  _ Dude, shut the fuck up _ , he tells it. “They need our help,” he agrees, and the smile Asuna gives him is blinding.

Klein turns sharply, addressing his guild. “Fuurinkazan, in my absence, Dale will be your leader. You do not mourn until you have saved as many people as you can. Be swift, be strong, be brave.” 

“Be swift, be strong, be brave,” the guild echoes back, bowing. 

Asuna draws Lambent Light, stepping forwards the address the group. “I am not your leader, and you don’t follow my oath, but today you are all braver than any knight,” she tells them, voice hard. “If you go back without me, tell the K.o.B that their commander died doing what they were too cowardly to do themselves.” 

“Today, you’re a samurai!” someone calls, the whole group chanting their support before turning to Kirito expectantly. 

He pauses, the words he wants to say stuck on his tongue. “If I die…” he trails off, clearing his throat. “If I die,” he repeats, “tell Lisbeth and Silica to not let the Black Cats die with me. Tell them I’m sorry.” 

There’s a murmur of assent, and they echo their motto back at him and Asuna, bowing once more. The trio turns to face the caverns ahead, a single, concise unit for the first time since their individual meetings. “Last one there’s a rotten egg,” Klein says, and Asuna snorts. 

“See you at the finish line, boys,” she replies, and then they’re off. The caverns blur around them as Kirito pours everything he has into running, feet barely touching the ground between strides. He keeps even with Klein even as Asuna pulls ahead, barely more than a blur of red and white even to them; a streak of motion warping as she runs. 

Eventually, the ALF army comes into view, a forest of dark greens and dull iron slicing down a veritable sea of mobs. Kirito, Asuna, and Klein don’t slow at all before charging into the frey, moving in flawless harmony with each other, seamlessly blending in with the fighting around them. It’s a routine of duck and dodge and attack and defend; Asuna’s rapier lashing out and leaving harsh red scores on the monsters, Kirito’s longsword cleaving through armor, Kein’s katana slicing limb from limb. Kirito’s ears fill with the  _ blipblipblip _ of his HP regen trying to keep him alive, his eyes flooding with red light from the wounds inflicted on the seemingly endless array of monsters launching assault after assault. He loses himself to the fighting, the sound of metal on metal mixed with cries of pain and exertion. When it finally comes to an end, there’s a quarter of the ALF missing, cut down by monsters, and another dozen or so dry-heaving onto the stone, bodies shaking with exertion.

_ This is a suicide mission _ , Kirito thinks, and it’s only when every eye in the cavern turns his way that he realizes he said it out loud.

“Knights and samurai have no business here,” the ALF commander grunts, sheathing his sword. His eyes shift to Kirito, making an obvious display of looking him over. “And we have no place for the opinions of murderers.” 

“Man,” Klein says, “I forget how much these guys don’t like you.” 

Kirito ignores him. “You’re leading an army into a deathtrap,” he says, gritting his teeth. “Half your men can barely stand- that boss is going to demolish you.” 

“Why not wait for the group raid?” Asuna asks. “The chances of survival will skyrocket.”

“And you’ll be fresh for the fight,” Klein adds. “Trying to solo a boss just… doesn’t make sense.” 

The general straightens up, towering over even Klein. “The other guilds hold too much reign over Aincrad,” The general says, voice low and serious. “It causes needless divide and crime. We are simply establishing ourselves as the leaders.” 

“You think this is some sort of dick-measuring contest?” Klein gapes. “You’ve already gotten a dozen men killed!”

“This is a suicide mission,” Kirito repeats, raising his voice to address the soldiers. “Your lives are worth more than cannon fodder in some reckless quest for tyranny! There is no shame in survival!” 

“Any of you who choose to walk away now will be welcomed into the ranks of the K.o.B,” Asuna calls. “You don’t have to do this.”

Klein raises a fist. “Fuurinkazan will also welcome any of you who choose to leave,” he shouts. 

But they’re met with blank faces, a sea of silence staring back at them. Even the soldiers who had sunk to their knees rise up and stand as a united front, a veritable wall of distaste boring down on them. “ALF, move out!” The general shouts, and the army starts their march towards the immense boss doors once more. 

“They’re going to die,” Asuna whispers, eyes wide as she watches the army go. “All of them.”

“All to be in control of Aincrad,” Klein spits, voice laced with disgust. “Fucking guild politics strike again.” 

“We’re going after them, aren’t we?” Kirito asks, more resigned acceptance than question. 

“Yup,” Klein answers, uncorking a health potion and downing it like a shot.

Asuna stretches her wrists out, pulling her hair back into a bun. “Absolutely,” she confirms, leaning down to press a kiss to Kirito’s cheek. “Don’t you dare die on me, you hear me? We’re coming out of this alive.” She looks to Klein, face set in fierce determination. “All of us.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the older man answers. “You heard the lady, Kirito. No dying.” 

“I  _ guess _ ,” he sighs dramatically, just to be a pain, and Asuna smacks his shoulder. “Yes, okay, I promise!” 

At the end of the hall, the boss doors start to creak open. “Be swift, be strong, be brave,” Klein tells them, readjusting his grip on his katana. 

“No dying,” Asuna reminds them both, drawing the Lambent Light once more.

“Good luck,” Kirito whispers, and together, the three of them charge. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, there was a lot of dialogue in this one. who's ready for gleam eyes?  
> sorry this was late! will explain in a minute. next update will be the 23rd, or the 16th if you're on patreon. that will also be the last update before i go on **hiatus!**
> 
> i'm taking a break for the month of july for several reasons. the first and foremost is that i'm traveling, and want to be focused on the friends i'm visiting instead of worrying about updates. the second is for my mental health! working on this is fun, but it'll be really nice to not have to worry about updates and stuff for a bit, which will let me build up my stock of buffer chapters again!  
> the third reason is so i can (hopefully) save up enough to get my keyboard fixed. this chapter is late because of that, meaning ive had to type mostly on my phone, which has sucked so much ass. if you want to know more about what happened or help me out, you can look at [this post on my blog](https://lovecorpse.tumblr.com/post/185506481896/hey-so-i-need-a-little-help) for more info.
> 
> last but not least, thank you to everyone who comments! i really appreciate the love & support this fic has gotten, and it's so cool to see regulars and to hear yall's thoughts and opinions. much love <3 see you on the 23rd!
> 
>  **EDIT:** i don't allow open support of incest on my works. i don't allow homophobia or transphobia either. if you really want to argue with me about how the story is written, send me a message on tumblr or another private format, because i don't have time to do it on here. insult me over it & call me an asshole all you want, but i'm not going to tolerate that sort of shit regardless.


	17. XVI: GLEAM EYES

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "All I need is a minute."
> 
> Asuna shoves a health potion against his lips, and Kirito tilts his head back obligingly, the cool liquid working it’s way through his body like magic. “We can buy you five,” she tells him, voice hard. “Don’t you dare die, Kirito.”

“Give me a minute,” Kirito gasps out hands clutching uselessly at the glowing red gash that arcs across his chest. It’s slowly sealing shut as his HP rises back up to green, flesh and blood and fabric all closing as if there was never anything wrong. “All I need is a minute.”

The boss chamber around them has been absolutely consumed by chaos and death, swathes of red light shining from gaping wounds and missing limbs. The ranks of the ALF have been decimated, left in small pockets of exhausted players trapped by the auto-sealed door. The message from the game, from Kayaba, sounds off loud and clear: there is no more retreating. Once you begin the boss fight, it’s win or die, no second chances, no running away. A whole new form of torment, rubbing salt in the very fresh wound. 

Asuna shoves a health potion against his lips, and Kirito tilts his head back obligingly, the cool liquid working it’s way through his body like magic. “We can buy you five,” she tells him, voice hard. “Don’t you dare die, Kirito.”

“Kazuto,” he manages, catching her hand. “I’m- my name is Kazuto.” Her eyes widen at the information, and he summons his best grin. “You deserve to know.” 

She smiles back at them, tears welling in her eyes. “You already know,” she tells him softly, squeezing his hand. “Don’t you dare die on me, Kazuto,” she whispers. “I’m not done loving you yet.” 

She stands, moving to join Klein on the battlefield, and the two of them are poetry in motion as they charge the goat-demon once more. They’re a blur of red and white and black as they call plays back and forth to each other, ducking under swipes of the monster’s blade and launch attacks of their own. Kirito almost doesn’t want to look away to execute his own plan, but he tears his gaze to his inventory as all of the pieces slot into place.

The health potion was the first step, his HP back at full, gleaming green. The second step, the true crux of his plan, had been lying in wait for nearly two weeks- the one true equal of the Elucidator, Lisbeth’s dragon metal blade; the Shadowcutter. It falls into his hand like it was made to fit there, and with one hand on each blade, Kirito rises to his feet. The Elucidator and the Shadowcutter cast arcs of iridescent light around the room, reflecting the sickening red glow as rainbow arcs as Kirito’s sword skill kicks in. Blue lightning spears down the side of the Shadowcutter as the system adjusts his grip, his swords shifting upwards just a fraction as he prepares himself.

Asuna charges one final time, her sliver of a blade somehow managing to knock Gleam Eyes backwards away from a cowering ALF soldier as she screams some worldless, unidentifiable threat at the great beast. “SWITCH!” she shouts, and Kirito throws himself forwards.

The twin blades leave streaks of light in the air as they come up and across, leaving a great red cross on the monster as Asuna drags the player out of the line of fire. Klein joins her, skidding to a stop in front of the remaining ALF soldiers with his katana raised protectively. 

Gleam Eyes roars, swinging down at Kirito with it’s claymore, but Kirito- no,  _ Kazuto,  _ this is Kazuto’s fight- brings his swords up in a cross, catching the strike with the deafening screech of metal against metal. The force of the blow nearly knocks him off of his feet, hair blowing out of his face and eyes stinging as he leans into it, putting his whole body into protecting himself. “No more,” he growls, forcing the blade back another inch. “NO MORE!” he repeats, the scream tearing itself from his throat without his permission, a plea, a promise, a vow to everyone he’s ever failed, to every death on his shoulder. 

A strike for Suguha, twelve years old and flinching back from their grandfather’s fury, defenseless. A strike for Diabel, who Kazuto hadn’t been quick enough to save. A strike for each of the Black Cats, for the rage he felt in their loss, for Sasamaru, Ducker, Tetsuo, Keita. For Sachi, sweet and brave and beautiful, red light spilling from her chest like some sort of martyr as she died. For Silica, a cut across her throat and hatred in her eyes. For Lisbeth, her hands shaking in the snow, praying to make it to the next day alive. For Argo, for Klein, for Asuna, for every dead soldier, killed without thought or reason or mercy. Kazuto doesn’t relent in his assault, no mercy or hesitation as his body leads him through every skill he knows.

He does it for the scared little boy who had been afraid to fight back without a mask to hide behind. Kazuto, true to his motto and word, does it for himself, but he does it for them, too. For every name, every memory, every moment of loss and grief and regret, his blades lash out, leaving burning red wounds in their wake, so much that he can hardly see anything but the color. The game guides him mindlessly through the motions, body ducking and striking and parrying on reflex alone, no thought given to anything but killing the beast. 

_ I’m crying _ , he thinks with a distant, detached sort of surprise, his vision warping and blurring even further. There’s too many sensations, his motions stretching and twisting like taffy, noises overlapping and echoing like he’s got his own private orchestra playing a symphony of trauma and pain and bright red lights.  _ No more, no more, no more _ , his mind chants, endless and eternal as he fights, a beat to offset the singing of his blades. He screams it out, the words ripping from his throat with no true purpose other than to get them  _ out _ , somehow, something raw and primal curling around his mind. Both the Elucidator and the Shadowcutter come up and across- no, not quite  _ across _ , but through the Gleam Eye’s neck, the weight of it catching on the swords as the boss’ head severs from its body. 

Gleam Eyes shatters into thousands of fractals of light that fall around him like snow, the  _ Congratulations! _ banner stark white against the empty space the boss had occupied only seconds before. Kazuto falls to his knees, vision swimming from exertion as the fighters around him simply stare in silence, shock coursing through the room like a wave.  _ Congratulations! _ his HUD reads, listing rewards and EXP, but the world around him grinds to a halt as his vision tunnels on his HP bar. 

His  _ empty _ HP bar.

_ YOU HAVE DIED _ , the new popup reads, the boss room shattering around him and leaving Kazuto alone and shaking in an unending void. A timer appears, the numbers slowly ticking down as realization kicks in.  _ Sixty, fifty-nine, fifty-eight _ , and he is dead, a single minute away from oblivion, from never seeing his sisters again, from never telling Asuna just how much he loves her.  _ Forty-six, forty-five, forty-four _ . 

_ I’m dead _ , he thinks, desolate and hollow as he watches the timer. “I’m dead,” he repeats out loud, the rest of his life ticking away to nothing.  _ I didn’t make it _ .

And as he stares into the unyielding darkness as death approaches ( _ thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven) _ all that Kazuto Kirigaya can think about is just how badly he wants to live. 

**⚔**

Asuna Yuuki has always been quick.

Quick on her feet, quick with her wit, the quickest reflexes in all of Japan, her mother used to praise, a smile on both of their faces. Quick to learn, quick to please, quick to  _ obey _ , her father had added, the underlying threat and hand on the back of her neck enough to steal the smile right off of Asuna’s face. 

“I hear you’re fast,” Heathcliff had told her during the K.o.B membership interview. “The people say you move like lightning.”

She had smiled back at him, all bared teeth and ambition. “The people are kind,” she replied, “but I am much, much faster than that.” 

And she was. She was the queen on Heathcliff’s chess board, the last ace up his sleeve, the K.o.B’s trump card; a blade hidden in plain view. Sweet and demure and agreeable in public, vicious and deadly on the battlefield, one of the deadliest players in the game. The comment about lightning had stuck, though, the title thrust upon her like something out of a story. Lighting Flash Asuna, vice-commander of the K.o.B, the quickest girl in Aincrad. She’s a household name, here, untouchable for her station and speed alike. 

Asuna had always read about girls like that in stories. Joan of Arc, her blade unstoppable in God’s name. Empress Jingu, an empress with an army at her command. Hua Mulan, disguised as a man to fight in wars. She had never read about any women renowned for their speed, not in any of her books or stories or myths, no women who moved like the strike of lighting, running so fast they could barely be seen. Asuna could almost see her name up there with the others, strong and proud of beautiful. Joan of Arc, Empress Jingu, Hua Mulan, and Asuna Yuuki, the girl who moves like lightning.

She’s never moved like this before.

Every ounce of her speed follows the single-minded focus of  _ KiritoKazutoKiritoKazuto _ as he falls to his knees, beautiful violet eyes she had come to adore turning grey and empty and lifeless as he shatters, her fingers mere centimeters away. 

“NO!” Asuna screams, an ugly and broken sound, fingers fumbling at her waist for the one thing she never leaves at home. The little crystal bauble is so light and fragile, clutched in her shaking hands. “Revive Kirito,” she tells it, voice harsh and broken and shaking. “Give him  _ back! _ ” 

With a soft chime, the bauble shimmers and breaks in her hands, and Asuna screams once more, slamming her fist down where Kirito’s body had been. “No!” she sobs, hitting the ground over and over. “Please! Give him back, please,  _ please!”  _

For a long moment she is alone in her anguish, the chamber around her as still and silent as it was when he had vanished. No one moves as she cries on her knees, cursing Akihiko Kayaba, cursing Aincrad, cursing herself for not being just a little bit faster, a little bit closer, a little bit better. Eventually a pair of strong arms wrap around her from behind, Klein lifting her up and away from the spot where he died even as she kicks and screams and claws at him, cursing like a sailor through the sobs that wrack through her body.

“He’s  _ gone _ , Asuna!” The samurai shouts above her yelling, his own voice tight with sorrow. “He’s gone, and we can’t bring him back! You can’t bring him back, Asuna!” 

Her movements slow, and then still, the girl falling limp in her friends arms as he holds her close, an anchor in the storm of grief that threatens to sweep her away. Asuna clings to Klein and cries, curling in on herself as Klein carries her away, whispering a steady stream of comfort and sorrow and hope as he walks. “It’s alright,” he whispers, face pressed into her strawberry blonde hair. “I’m sorry, Asuna,” he continues, and another violent sob shakes through her.

“I wasn’t fast enough,” she chokes out, the words catching in her throat. “I couldn’t save him.” 

As Klein shifts her in his arms to carry her better, she catches sight of the empty stone where he had stood, looking like some hero out of a fairytale for a single moment. A sword in each hand, his coat rippling behind him, violet eyes filled with light and determination and life for a fraction of a second. Asuna stares at the spot where he knelt, where he vanished, just beyond her grasp.

He doesn’t reappear. 

**⚔**

In a hospital in Japan, Suguha Kirigaya leaps to her feet as her brother’s heart monitor skyrockets. She knows he’s fighting, or afraid, because his body still reacts as if he were awake, adrenaline flooding his system whenever it thinks he needs it. A nurse bustles in, checking all of the machines, and all Suguha can do is stand and stare at her brother’s face, covered by that stupid helmet.

“Don’t die,” she tells him, hands tightening into fists at her side. “Kazuto, you- don’t die, big brother,” she whispers. “Please.” 

“It’ll be okay, dear,” the nurse says as kindly as she can, and neither of them believe it. This hospital has seen enough deaths at the hands of Kayaba Akihiko’s game that they know not to make promises, anymore. “He can pull through.” 

Suguha stares at her brother, light filtering through the blinds to cast lines across his body, frail from disuse under the hospital’s blankets. She can see his eyes moving under their lids as he sleeps, twitching as he looks at whatever horrors the game summoned. All she can do is stand and stare and pray to whatever gods that are listening that the little old nurse is right, and that her big brother can pull through until the game is over. 

“Please,” she repeats, throat dry. “Please, Kazuto.” 

Her brother doesn’t respond.

He never does.

**⚔**

_ Ten. _

_ Nine. _

_ Eight.  _

_ Seven. _

_ Six. _

_ Five- _

Five seconds too early, five seconds before his time is truly up, the darkness closes in on Kazuto. It’s a weird feeling of unbeing, bodiless and waiting in the void, like his muscles had come undone and let his bones just float away, dissolving into dust as they went. He blinks- or, at least, he thinks he does, it’s a little hard to tell- his eyes squeezing tight as he waits for the feeling of  _ consciousness  _ to vanish.

He wonders if there’s heaven, or hell, or anything at all. He wonders if Suguha will be able to forgive him for not coming back.

He wonders if the world will miss him- a lonely little nobody from Japan, dead to a video game that's killed thousands of others.

Kazuto counts down in his head from where the timer left off.  _ Five, four, three, two, one _ , and just like that, he’s supposed to be dead, brain fried and empty and gone from the world forever. When there’s no great feeling of oblivion, no pain, no angel or demon or reaper or whatever to lead him away, he pauses, takes a deep breath, and slowly but surely, Kazuto opens his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...TO BE CONTINUED. [evil laughter]
> 
> that's it for now, folks! this fic will be back up & running on **august 4th!!** this is just about the halfway point of the aincrad arc, and i am *so excited* to write everything to come!! thank you all again for the love & support, and thank you to everyone who's wished me well on my vacation <3 
> 
> a few more things, before i go: as some of you have probably noticed, i've turned off anonymous commenting. it really sucks to have to do that, but more harm than good was coming from it, so. if you don't have an AO3 acc or aren't comfortable commenting off anon, you can always message me on my [blog!](https://lovecorpse.tumblr.com/ask)
> 
> with all that out of the way: bye for now, you guys! i'll be super excited to be posting again come august <3


	18. XVII: AFTERMATH

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He’s not dead, Asuna.” 
> 
> Asuna, hands tighten into fists at her sides, eyes burning as more tears threaten to spill down her cheeks. “I saw him die, Lisbeth. Every person who survived that stupid fucking boss saw him die. Klein saw him die. He’s not coming back.” 
> 
> Lisbeth’s mouth tightens at the corners as she crosses her arms, gaze hard. “Where’s his sword, then?”

The sun is blinding.

That’s the first thing that hits him when Kazuto opens his eyes- the sun is high in the sky above him, burning bright enough that he has to squint to see. He almost closes his eyes again, but fear of that unending darkness surges through him like a tidal wave, crashing in his throat and choking the air out of him. Kazuto keeps his eyes open, and raised a hand to his throat, and he sees the world around him shine.

It's sickeningly familiar, this sight. The last time he was here, he ran from the edge of town, high on excitement. Just like then, there is no armor on his shoulders, no coat brushing the ground behind him. There is the weight of sword sheathes pressing against his shoulder. For a moment, alone, Kazuto feels like he did then. He had been young. He hadn't known what had been coming. He had new friend a few paces behind, then. Now, the thought haunts him- does he have a friend, chasing after him? 

 _"You're letting me save a life,"_ Asuna had told him, back on New Year's Eve. _"You don't know how much that means to me."_

Never once had he imagined that life would be his. He reaches for his menu, hand slashing through the air, searching for his friends list. Blank space is all that greets him, no names recalled. _Kirito, Level 50_ , his menu says. His heart sinks. He opens his inventory.

 _Elucidator,_ it says. _Shadowcutter,_ it says. There is nothing else listed.

"Fuck my entire life," Kazuto says, and the Town of Beginnings greets him with silence. 

**⚔**

_may twenty-fourth, 2024_

“He’s not dead, Asuna.” 

Asuna, hands tighten into fists at her sides, eyes burning as more tears threaten to spill down her cheeks. “I saw him _die_ , Lisbeth. Every person who survived that stupid fucking boss saw him die. Klein saw him die. He’s not coming back.” 

Lisbeth’s mouth tightens at the corners as she crosses her arms, gaze hard. “Where’s his sword, then?” 

“Gone!” Asuna snaps. “Gone, just like him, and the rest of his shit, is that what you wanted to hear? It’s fucking _gone_ , Liz!” Klein steps forwards, hand coming up to rest on Asuna’s arm, a warning and a reassurance all in one.

“She’s right,” he tells Liz. “I… we all saw it. I don’t think it’s possible that I could have mistaken that animation for anything else. The sword is gone because _Kirito_ is gone.” 

Liz uncrosses her arms again, standing up to her full height and crossing the room to glare up at Asuna, their noses barely an inch apart. “I made that sword,” she hisses at the taller girl, bright pink eyes narrowed. “I spent hours poring over that code, adjusting every single setting until it was perfect. I coded that sword to be a drop, because I knew if he died, we would want something to remember him by, so don’t you _dare_ stand there and tell me he’s fucking gone! If he was dead, you would have the Shadowcutter, and until you find it, I refuse to believe it!” She shoves her finger in Asuna’s face. “And I need you to stop fucking moping and help me find wherever that goddamn item of yours sent him, _alright?_ ” 

Silence rattles through the Starforge, all eyes fixed firmly on Lisbeth. She’s breathing heavily, staring up at Asuna, shoulders shaking with anger and grief and everything in between, eyes shining with unshed tears. It feels like the whole world is holding it’s breath as Asuna looks down at her, still trembling with rage; but with eyes blown wide with shock. “Tell me you’re sure,” she whispers, staring down at her friend. “Tell me that there’s no way you could possibly be wrong, Lisbeth. Promise to me. Swear it on something that matters.” 

A beat passes. “I swear it on the Black Cats,” Lisbeth says, and there’s a sharp hiss of surprise from Argo, twin gasps from Klein and Silica. Liz swallows, and repeats: “I swear it on the Black Cats. I swear it on honor and memories and the things that mattered most to him. I have never been more sure of anything else in my entire life, Asuna.” 

Asuna’s hands relax, coming unclenched. “Then he has to be here somewhere,” she says, scrubbing at her eyes with her hand. “ _Fuck_ , Liz, he’s not dead?” 

“He’s not dead,” the other girl replies, reaching up to help wipe away Asuna’s tears. “You didn’t think our boy would go down that easy, did you?” 

And at once, the room exhales as a group, each and every one of them tumbling into motion. Klein sags forwards against Asuna, who crushes Liz into a hug. Silica and Argo come rushing forwards, the former throwing her arms around the rest of the group and the latter simply reaching up to put a hand on Klein’s shoulder. Even Agil joins the tangle, ruffling Lisbeth’s hair as she squirms and tries to wriggle away from the center of the pile. “Guys, come on! We can’t find him if we’re here being all sappy,” she protests, face pressed against Asuna’s chestplate. 

“You’re right!” Silica yelps, yanking herself away. “He’s probably all scared and alone, if he hasn’t made it back to us yet! Or maybe his levels got reset!” 

“Fuck,” Agil says. “If his level got reset, and it sent him somewhere on floor 74 or 75…” he trails off, shaking his head. “No wonder we haven’t heard from him.” 

“He could be down at the Town of Beginnings, too,” Lisbeth comments, removing herself from Asuna’s grasp. “We should split up to look!” 

“I can ask around the middle floors, see if anyone has heard about him or the Shadowcutter,” Argo offers, clasping her hands together. “Silica, do you wanna come with? You’re cute, and cuteness gets answers.” 

Silica bounces in place, nodding empathetically. “Yeah! Knives also get answers, you know.” 

“And that’s why I’m coming with,” Argo tells her. “So, me and our budding little serial murderer will start at what, floor 37, and work our way out from there?” 

“Lisbeth and I can start at the Town of Beginnings,” Asuna offers. “We’ll work our way up from there until we find you guys, right?”

“Right,” Klein agrees. “That leaves you and me for Floor 75 down, eh, Agil?” 

The taller man bumps his fist into Klein’s. “We’ll meet you all back in the middle,” he promises, voice gravelly. “We’ll find our boy.” 

“We’ll find out boy,” Asuna echoes, and Lisbeth takes her hand, squeezing tight. She’s a steady presence at Asuna’s side- not quite a lighthouse, not a guiding path, but a rock to cling to as the storm rises up around her. Unmoving, unchanging, unquestioning. “He’s… he has to be out there somewhere.” 

Lisbeth bumps their shoulders together. “You’re absolutely right,” she agrees. “Besides, I think it’d take more than a tiny little floor boss to kill our boy,” she jokes, and no one mentions when Asuna’s laughs sound more like sobs. 

**⚔**

Kazuto’s never really considered his life as a frontliner _good_ , like, in any way at all. But sitting in the Town of Beginnings with no food, no money, and half of his levels missing; he’s starting to miss fighting for his life. There are still NPC merchants wandering around, hawking early-level armor and weapons and eyeing his swords with obvious want, but he can’t just _sell_ the Elucidator or the Shadowcutter. That would be… blasphemy, or at the very least incredibly rude to _Liz_ , who risked her life to get the metal for the second blade. Even considering it feels wrong. 

But he doesn’t really have very many _options_ , is the thing. The reason everyone stopped coming down to the first floor was because there was no point to it- once you’re past a certain level, mobs won’t even give you enough EXP for it to be worth exploring. Every dungeon has been cleared out, every NPC quest completed, all of the treasure plundered. The Town of Beginnings is a ghost town, desolate and abandoned- just like Kazuto is, right about now. 

 _Stop whining about it and_ ** _do_** _something_ , the not-quite-Suguha voice in the back of his mind says. _Some great swordsman you are, letting one little obstacle get in your way_. 

“Shut up,” he tells the voice, letting his head hit the wall behind him. “What the fuck do you know, anyways?” 

 _I know that talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity,_ the voice mocks. It sounds smug, and Kazuto knows it wouldn’t sound smug if he didn’t think there was something to be smug about, because it’s a figment of his imagination and all. 

“When you get lost, you should stay where you are,” Kazuto mumbles, but his defense sounds stupid, even to his own ears. 

Because the thing is, they might not be _looking_ for him. And that’s the kicker of it all, that he’s sitting here, baking in the sun, waiting for a rescue mission that might never come. He died. There were dozens of witnesses, including Klein and Asuna, and they wouldn’t be wrong to assume he had died. He’s not a damsel in distress, he’s one of the skeletons the hero walks over. 

 _They’re not coming,_ the voice in his head tries to sway him. _Why would they?_ Kirito shuts his eyes. _Why would they come for you?_

Kazuto is silent in response, but his mind is not. Images of his friends- no, his _family_ conjure themselves against the grating tone of Not-Suguha. _Nii-chan_ , Silica calls him, bright and hopeful and happy. _Dumbass_ , Lisbeth calls him, voice edged with fond exasperation. _Kiri-bou_ , Argo wheedles, trying to get him to go along with her newest scheme. _Bro_ , Klein hollers in excitement, swinging an arm around his shoulders. _Kirito-kun_ , Asuna says shyly, tucking her hair behind her ear. 

His friend’s voices raise to a crescendo in his mind, overwhelming the sad, bitter voice. A year and a half of love and friendship and solidarity crashes through him all at once, an answering war cry to the question choking through his mind- _Why would they come for you?_ the little voice cries, and Kirito’s friends answer back. 

A memory cuts through the noise, clear as crystal- Asuna, sending out a search party for a lost knight, looking every inch a commander in front of the guilds. “No man left behind,” she had bit out, voice firm and unwavering. “When we give up on each other, we’re giving up on getting out of here. We do not leave people to die. We’re better than that.” 

Kazuto pushes himself to his feet. “No man left behind,” he repeats out loud, echoing his memory. “She wouldn’t give up on me that easy. I just have to have faith.” 

So the Black Swordsman tilts his head up to look at the sky, and he waits.

**⚔**

He’s not on the first floor. Asuna had hoped- it would have made _sense_ , for Kirito to be there, for the resurrection point to have been what it was supposed to be before the death game. But the Town of Beginnings is empty, and Asuna wants to cry. She wants to give up, to lay down and scream and sob. She wants to find Akihiko Kayaba and slit his throat, to hurt him like he’s hurt her, to take everything away from him. She wants to go _home_ , to curl up in her room and breathe real air and drink real tea. Asuna hasn’t felt this small and afraid and alone since she was a small child, when she used to hide under her bed during storms and cry because of all the noise. 

“I’m sorry, Asuna,” Lisbeth says, hand on her shoulder. “But we should keep going- he might have moved, or the regeneration point could have been different.” The shorter girl looks nearly as upset as Asuna feels, pink eyes watering as she wrings her hands. 

When Asuna was young, she would hide under her bed from lightning. Now, she _is_ the lightning. Lightning does not give up, and neither does she. 

She takes a deep breath and squares her shoulders. “Knowing my idiot, he’s probably trying to make his way home,” she says, doing her best to smile. “We just have to keep looking. We’ll find him.” 

Lisbeth scrubs across her face with the back of her hand, wiping away her tears. “You’re right! Of course you’re right. God, look at me, sniffling like a little kid,” she says, smacking her hands onto her cheeks. “We can do this! Kirito is all about keeping onwards and upwards, right? We should keep looking!” 

“Upwards,” Asuna echoes, her eyes widening in realization. “Lisbeth, the _rooftops_.” 

She doesn’t wait for her friend to answer before she takes off running, scrambling up the side of the nearest building as fast as she can manage. She stumbles as she rolls onto the shop’s roof, looking out at the plane of closely-connected rooftops. A whole new way of looking at the first floor, the exact sort of perspective a bored Kazuto would seek out. Asuna takes off at a dead sprint, leaping across gaps, eyes wide and searching as she works her way outwards in a spiralling loop. 

Her eyes focus on a smudge of black against a terra-cotta rooftop and a sob of relief rips through her throat. He’s _asleep_ . Her beautiful, terrifying, _moronic_ boyfriend is leaned back on a rooftop, swords set by his side, eyes shut and breathing even as he naps in the midday sun. “KAZUTO,” Asuna yells, tears welling in her eyes as she runs. “KAZUTO!” 

With a jolt he’s on up, eyes wild as he blinks himself awake, one hand grasping at the Elucidator as he whips his head around. His eyes lock onto hers, bright, beautiful violet, and his face goes slack with relief as she barrells into him. 

He smells like pine trees and dust and sunshine, strong arms wrapping around Asuna’s waist as he lifts her off the ground. “You’re alive,” she cries, face pressed against his shoulder. “You’re _alive!”_

“You came for me,” he breathes, and then she’s pulling back and kissing him on the mouth as hard as she can. 

“I will _always_ come for you, Kazuto,” she whispers. “You hear me? _Always._ ” 

He sets her down and kisses her again, warm and strong against her. “Always,” he mumbles against her lips when they break apart, cupping her face in his hands. 

Whatever he’s about to say is cut off by Lisbeth crashing into him, a tiny blur of warm brown and hot pink sending both of them tumbling to the ground as Liz clings to him. “NEVER AGAIN,” she shouts through her tears. “If you ever scare me like that again I’ll kill you myself!” 

Kazuto laughs, bright and clear. “I promise, I promise!” he says, hugging Liz back. “No more near-death experiences, okay? I swear it on my life.” 

Liz smacks him on the shoulder. “Don’t swear on your _life,_ dumbass! That’s what we’re trying to protect!” She’s laughing through her tears, though, and Kazuto picks her up as he stands back up, reaching for Asuna again.

Asuna lets him pull her in, arms wrapped tight around her best friend and her boyfriend. For the first time since she watched him vanished, she breathes easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, darling readers!! i'm back!! thank you so much to everyone for being so understanding during my hiatus <3 the break was really good for me and i'm really excited to get back to this fic!! 
> 
> i hope this chapter is a nice return for all of you!! if you wanna talk to me or get progress reports/updates, you can check out my [blog!!!](https://lovecorpse.tumblr.com/)
> 
> next update should be the 18th, or the 11th for patreon subscribers! see you all then
> 
>  **EDIT:** fixed the page breaks!


	19. XVIII: SWORD AGAINST SWORD

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He’s going to fucking demolish you, Kazuto.” 
> 
> “Thanks, honey,” Kirito tells Asuna, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Really helpful and supportive of you.”

_ june first, 2024 _

“And you just… woke back up?”

“Yes,” Kirito replies from between gritted teeth, staring down Heathcliff. “The countdown stopped, and I woke back up. That’s all that happened.” 

Asuna sends him a sympathetic look from her position next to Heathcliff, biting at her lip anxiously. Kirito isn’t on  _ trial _ , not officially, but every single front liner is having trouble believing the story. Single-handedly killing a boss,  _ dying _ , and waking back up. Kirito wouldn’t believe himself, either. 

Heathcliff looks pensive, though, leaning towards Kirito. “Kirito-kun,” he says. It’s a slow, thoughtful tone that rises Kirito’s hackles instinctively, shoulders hunching against the bone-deep chill the man’s voice sends him with. “Why haven’t you joined a guild?” He asks.  _ Ah, fuck, not this again _ , Kirito thinks. 

There’s clamoring at that; other guild leaders echoing the question, a few brief cries of outrage. When Heathcliff raises a hand and the room falls silent, Kirito wants to laugh; remembering the ALF’s effort to gain control of the Aincrad guilds. Against Heathcliff and Asuna, no other guild holds a chance of gaining their sway, their power. It’s terrifying, really. Kirito wants to answer the question, which is usually the last thing that Kirito wants to do  _ ever _ . Charisma is the type of game stat he’s always been confused about, because it just doesn’t apply to him in real life. He’s awkward, tongue-tied, a painfully shy shut-in who rarely interacts with people face to face. When he speaks, he’s more likely to be met with raised eyebrows and confusion than an immediate acceptance of his words. 

When Heathcliff speaks, his words become law before they’ve left his mouth. 

“I have joined a guild before,” Kirito replies, trying to keep his chin up. He thinks about the easy, casual confidence that Klein holds, the knife sharp precision that Asuna handles when she speaks to crowds. The line between Kazuto and Kirito is clearer than ever, and it’s Kirito speaking now. Kazuto was a tongue-tied mess. Kirito can’t afford to be. “They all died in an accident with a trapped room. Since then, I have refused to join any guilds because of the… guilt, from that situation.” 

It’s the most he’s said about the Black Cats to anyone other than close friends, and his heart is strangling him. But he said it, and his voice didn’t waver. He didn’t waver, and Heathcliff is looking at him, and everyone is looking at him, and his hands are not shaking. “Noble,” Heathcliff says, and a few more voices rise. Kirito ignores them.

He finds Asuna’s eyes, honey-amber gold burning as she looks at him. She looks like there’s a million things that she wants to say, but Kirito won’t let her jeopardize her position for him. He shakes his head. 

Heathcliff raises his hand for silence, and silence falls. “I think we’re done here,” he says, and he leaves no room for protest. “Kirito-kun, would you walk with me?” 

Kirito really,  _ really _ doesn’t want to do that. “Yes, sir,” he says. 

There’s nearly six inches of height difference between himself and Heathcliff. Kirito isn’t short, not really- he knows that he’s not the tallest guy out there, his girlfriend can attest to that- but Heathcliff makes him feel small in a way that’s wholly uncomfortable. He’s broad and wears the type of heavy plate armor that makes Kirito’s muscles ache from just thinking about the weight. He looks like a traditional knight, in his white-and-red ensemble. Kirito, on the other hand, is barely 5’7” and is wearing the best armor he could get back after a little help from Liz and a week of money-grinding. 

“So, your level dropped substantially,” Heathcliff muses, and Kirito tries to hide his wince.

“Yes, sir,” he replies. “From level seventy-four to level fifty.” _Level 56_ blinks tauntingly from his HUD. “I’ve been working to regain them and rejoin everyone on the front lines as soon as possible.” 

“You’re that desperate to get back to fighting, even after you died once?” 

“No offense intended, sir, but the fact that I had to fight that fight is proof that I’m needed,” Kirito replies. “We lost nearly half of the ALF forces during that raid, and however dumb their leader might be, that’s a significant blow to the front lines. We need everyone, including myself, in top fighting shape in order to proceed onwards.” 

Heathcliff pauses, and Kirito turns to face the older man, looking up at him. His expression is carefully neutral as he looks down at Kirito. “I have a… proposition, if you’re at all interested.” When Kirito doesn’t respond, he takes it as an invitation to continue. “My second in command was against this, but to be frank, I think Commander Asuna may be biased.” 

Kirito stays silent, smoothing out his own face into neutrality despite the emotions roiling under his skin. “You, Kirito, are too valuable of an asset to be allowed to work as a single unit,” Heathcliff says. “You managed to take down the floor boss near-single handedly, and yet here you are, standing in front of me. You have a sword skill no one else has, purely based off of your skill alone, apparently. You are a powerhouse, Kirito, and allowing you to function as a free agent who answers to no one is dangerous for Aincrad.” 

“Dangerous for the guilds,” Kirito corrects, lifting his chin. He thinks of Asuna again, all her calm fury, and he imagines his eyes glittering the way that hers do when she’s mad. “You want me under your thumb so that you’re in control of both Aincrad’s most powerful players.” 

Heathcliff allows himself a smile at that. “You’re right,” he admits easily. “Asuna is your equal, truly, and having her by my side as second-in-command has made the K.o.B recognizable as a leader, amongst the other guilds. Would it be so bad, Kirito, to join her?” 

Kirito snorts. “I don’t look good in white.” 

“The red is the most important part.” 

“You just don’t know how to take a hint, do you?” Kirito huffs. “No, Heathcliff. I have no interest in being a knight.” 

The commander is still smiling at him, pleasant as can be, but a feeling of trepidation crawls up Kirito’s spine; right as the other man begins to speak. “Well, how about we duel for it? Someone able to beat a floor boss single-handedly should have no problem taking down a fellow player.” 

_ Fuck _ , Kirito thinks. “Fuck,” Kirito says. Heathcliff’s grin turns predatory. 

“Tomorrow at noon?” The older man asks, barely hiding his glee. Kirito wants to say no, but if he does, that’s the end of his access to front-liner information. Refusing to duel will make him a coward, and being labelled a coward makes it that much easier for Heathcliff to turn every other guild leader against him. 

In a word? He’s screwed. “Tomorrow at noon,” he agrees, and he tries his hardest not to let it feel like it’s the end of the world. 

**⚔**

“He’s going to fucking demolish you, Kazuto.” 

“Thanks, honey,” Kirito tells Asuna, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Really helpful and supportive of you.” 

Asuna ducks her head and presses a kiss to his jaw, still frowning. “I’d be a worse girlfriend if I lied and said you would win,” she points out. “Heathcliff is level  _ eighty _ . You’re level fifty-six. It’s not even a real duel!” 

Kirito hums. “I have two swords, though.” 

“Quality over quantity,” Asuna retorts. “Heathcliff fights with a sword and shield, but he’s remarkably fast for such a heavy build. It’s a blatant setup to get you under K.o.B control.” She pauses, squinting at him. “You’re remarkably calm, considering you’re going to be selling your soul to a guild in twenty minutes or so.” 

“Ah, but while I don’t have a plan for  _ winning _ , I have a plan for worming my way out!” Asuna stares at Kirito as he smiles up at her. “I join up, stay on for a week and level grind, and then I pick a fight with someone too valuable for Heathcliff to lose and quit on grounds of incompatibility. It’s not like guilds can hate me  _ more _ .” 

“You realize that to Heathcliff, there’s almost  _ no one _ more valuable than having The Black Swordsman under his thumb, right?” Kirito just looks at Asuna, still smiling. She blinks down at him, and then narrows her eyes, mouth twisting into a frown. “You can’t be serious.” 

Kirito smiles innocently. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

She smacks his chest, poorly-smothered laughter bubbling in her throat. “You are incorrigible, you know that? An absolute menace.”  

The door opens behind them and Silica bounces in, tugging Klein along by the wrist. “Eugh, stop flirting,” the dragon tamer says, wrinkling her nose. “Nii-chan, we brought you gifts!”

“Silica brought you a gift,” Klein corrects, reaching over to ruffle Kirito’s hair. “I’m just here for moral support.”

Kirito makes a face at the older man before twisting to hold his arms out to Silica, who obligingly leaps onto him and wraps her legs around his skinny hips. She bares her sharp little fangs at him in an approximation of a grin. “It’s a really good one, too,” she promises, honey-gold eyes crinkling at the corners. 

Kirito bares his teeth back, wrinkling his nose. “Well, are you gonna give it to me, or are you just gonna talk about it? I have to go get my ass kicked, y’know.” 

Silica wriggles until she’s stable enough to use one arm to open her menu,  _ tap-tap-tapping _ until she gets to the right page. The ‘incoming gift’ box opens in front of Kirito’s face, and he uses the arm not supporting his little sister to tap  _ accept _ . The item is apparently clothing, labelled in all lowercase as  _ coat of the windwalker.  _ “You didn’t,” Kirito says, voice wobbling just a little bit. 

“Oh, I totally did,” Silica replies, throwing her arms over his shoulders. “You don’t look the same without it.” Kirito moves to put it on, but Silica stops him, grabbing at his wrist. “No, no, wait till you go in to put it on, okay! It’ll be  _ so cool _ , Nii-chan, just like a movie.” 

“It  _ will  _ be pretty cool,” Asuna admits with a smile. “Come on, Kazuto, give the people a show. They’re here to watch you, after all.” 

Kirito shakes his head, carefully setting Silica down on the ground. “Reckless enablers, the lot of you.” There’s the distant roar of a crowd outside the door, a whole coliseum of spectators waiting to see the legendary Black Swordsman fight the Commander of the Knights of Blood. “Give em a show,” he repeats to himself under his breath. “I can do that.” 

Klein gives him a rough bear-hug, Silica darts in to throw her arms around his waist, and Asuna kisses him quick, mussing his hair before he heads out. “Go get ‘em, babe.” 

As Kirito steps out of the dark hallway and into the bright sunlight of the coliseum, Silica’s gift glitters into existence around his shoulders. The coat kicks up dirt behind him, collar flapping in the wind as he walks. Sunshine glints off of the dragon scales that decorate the shoulders and backs, a violet emblem of two crossed swords stitched onto the sleeve. The noise becomes near-deafening as the crowd roars, cheering for the two players as they walk towards each other. 

The sunlight casts rainbows off of the Elucidator and the Shadowcutter as Kirito hoists them above his head, one blade in each hand. Heathcliff doesn’t bother preforming at all, just walking stoically to meet his opponent in the middle of the arena. 

It’s just the two of them, not even a rock or barrier to potentially find cover behind. Heathcliff’s sword is a wicked-looking thing, long white blade seemingly blooming from the red rose crossguard that shines like blood. His shield matches, the K.o.B emblem proudly stencilled into the center. He’s the image of a perfect knight, come to defeat the rouge vagabond in an honorable battle.

Kirito’s really glad that he decided not to fight honorably. There’s no greeting, no kind words from the older man, just a cool gaze as the counter starts above them. “You know,” Kirito says, eyes not leaving the other man, “I really can’t wait to see how much money I make from the proceeds to this thing.” 

Heathcliff gives him a thin smile. “Once you’re part of the guild, that’ll be valuable funds for us,” he replies, and the countdown hits zero. 

The crowd seems to  _ explode _ into cheers as Heathcliff charges him, waiting to see what they’ll both do. Kirito watches that heavy white cross of a shield get closer and closer, not lifting a hand to raise Shadowcutter or the Elucidator as he waits to the last possible moment.

Then he jumps. 

His feet slam into Heathcliff’s shield as he uses the other man as a springboard, a move he learned from watching Silica fight. Kirito launches himself into the air, twisting around and bringing both of his swords down as hard as he can. Heathcliff manages to twist and block him, slamming his shield into Kirito’s stomach and sending him flying. The air flies from Kirito’s lungs as he hits the ground, hastily scrambling to his feet as Heathcliff turns to charge him again. 

Kirito barely manages to get the Shadowcutter up in time to deflect Heathcliff’s swing, whipping the Elucidator towards the other man’s chest. It misses by a hair’s breadth, Kirito cursing as he ducks under another swing and twists around to swing at Heathcliff’s back. It’s like a dance, the two of them stepping back and forth, Kirito’s coat twisting with every movement and Heathcliff’s cape billowing behind him as they fight. Kirito can almost hear the music, something quick-paced and brutal, their swords striking in time to the beat. 

“Careful,” Heathcliff chides as Kirito jerks his head away from the strike, grimacing as the blade whispers past his face. “Your response time is quite impressive.” 

“Thanks,” Kirito grits out, kicking Heathcliff in the stomach while he uses his swords to shove his blade away. The other man doubles over, wheezing, and the crowd erupts into gasps and booing. “I learned from the best.” Asuna had taught him that trick, sparring against Klein for a friendly match. She had punched him right in the stomach and then brought her rapier against his throat in quick succession. Kirito almost manages to drive his sword into the gap between Heathcliff’s armor, but the other man straightens up just in time; Kirito’s blade screeching against plate armor instead of finding its mark. 

Heathcliff tries to strike him, but this time  _ his _ blade skitters off of armor, the dragon scales of his coat sparking as the steel strikes at them. There’s a moment where Heathcliff is left wide open in his surprise, and Kirito thinks for a moment that he might win. His sword darts out, pointed tip just about to skewer through the other man’s side when he feels it. 

_ How did he…  _ Kirito looks down at the sword skewered through his stomach, the force of the blow lifting his feet off of the ground. This close to him, Heathcliff’s kindly smile looks more smug, something glittering in his eyes that Kirito dreads to recognize. 

“Too bad,” the other man says, and Kirito stiffens. Suddenly he’s back on that hilltop with Wren, red light gleaming from his wound and a sword sticking through him. “I thought you had me, for a moment.” 

Kirito tilts his head down and looks at Heathcliff, really  _ looks,  _ and something he had thought was dormant twists in his chest, hateful and black. Heathcliff looks up at him, eyes crinkling at the corners just like Silica’s had barely twenty minutes earlier; and all Kirito can see is hatred. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kirito gets stabbed count: 4
> 
> updating a bit early because i'll be suuuper busy tomorrow! i'm really excited for the chapters of K.o.B!Kirito, especially since there'll be more parts from asuna's perspective. next update will be two weeks from now (or next week for patrons!), so i'll see you all then! hope you enjoyed!


	20. XIX: SIR KIRITO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s so bright,” he groans, and Asuna smacks his chest. “Ow! Come on, Asuna, it’s not like there’s any point protesting what’s done!” 
> 
> “Idiot,” she repeats. “And it’s Commander Asuna when you’re in K.o.B gear!.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for loss of limbs/amputation in this chapter!   
> if you need to skip it, the descriptions are from " “Maybe this will shut you up.” " to " “Better,” ", and then again from "his limbs unlock." to "HP diving into the red."   
> read at your own discretion, and please practice safety & self care!

_ june third, 2024 _

“You’re an idiot.” Asuna tugs at the lapels of Kirito’s coat and then smooths it down against his chest. The scarlet fabric is edged in white, nearly a bastardization of the K.o.B uniform that makes Kirito stand out like a sore thumb. “You look more like a Fuurinkazan samurai than you do a knight.” 

Kirito looks down at himself, pulling a face. “It’s so  _ bright _ ,” he groans, and Asuna smacks his chest. “Ow! Come on, Asuna, it’s not like there’s any point protesting what’s done!” 

“Idiot,” she repeats. “And it’s Commander Asuna when you’re in K.o.B gear!.”

He can’t help the grin that spreads across his face. “Yes,  _ Commander. _ Hey, does the K.o.B have housing assistance? Real estate’s gotten insanely pricey.”

“No luck finding a new apartment?” 

“None.”

Color rises in Asuna’s cheeks as she looks away. “Well, you could always-” 

She’s cut off by the door slamming open, smacking into the wall. Asuna takes a curt step away from Kirito, raising an eyebrow at the knight standing in the doorway. “Sir Kuradeel,” she greets, not bothering to hide her disdain. “Have you forgotten your manners, being away from the real world for so long, or did your mother never teach you to knock?” 

Kuradeel scowls. “Are you done primping?” He asks Kirito, ignoring Asuna completely. “We need to leave soon so that you can be… adequately caught up.”  

Kirito shoots Asuna a pleading look that is deftly ignored. “You’ll find no sympathy here, Sir Kirito,” she says, shooing him away. “Go follow orders.” 

Kuradeel snatches his wrist and turns to pull him through the doorway. “Bye, Commander!” Kirito shouts over his shoulder, stumbling at the tugging from the other man. Kuradeel’s grip on his wrist is like a vice, tight enough to be uncomfortable, and Kirito squirms. “Dude, can you loosen up? I’m not going to run screaming.” 

Kuradeel doesn’t let go. “I’m your commanding officer,” he bites out. “I’ll have you address me properly.” 

With a deft twist and pull of his arm, Kirito  _ yanks _ his wrist free from the other man’s grasp, face going stony. “I’ll have you remember that I’ve beaten you once,” he says, hoping his voice is suitably haughty. “Who do you think Heathcliff would be more willing to give up?” 

After a long, tense moment, Kuradeel clicks his tongue and turns away. “Keep up,” he snaps. “I won’t be slowed down by your laziness.” 

_ Asuna was right, _ Kirito thinks as he follows Kuradeel out of the building.  _ I am an idiot. _

**⚔**

Floor Fifty-five is mostly sand, when it comes down to it. The dungeons are made up of long, twisting paths shaded by crumbling sandstone cliffs, covered in all sorts of nasty creepy-crawlies waiting to get the drop on you. It is a horrible hellscape and Kirito had sworn to never come back the day they defeated the boss.

Of course it’s where Kuradeel takes him to train.

The other knight with them, Sir Godfree, is pleasant enough, despite his case of chronic stars-in-eyes-itis about Kirito’s swords and the woman who made them. He proudly displays his own Starforge blade and chatters about Lisbeth until Kirito’s tempted to cut his own ears off, just for a moment of silence.

Still, even Godfree’s ceaseless chatter is better than Kuradeel’s haughty superiority, which he flaunts as often as he can. Kirito’s half convinced that he’s trying to kill him, with how often Kuradeel tries to drag his attention away from the mobs with technique criticism and useless nitpicking. 

“Will you  _ not _ ?” Kirito snaps eventually, angrily watching his HP tick back up to green as the scratch on his arm seals itself. “You’re doing more harm than good!” 

Kuradeel sneers at him. “Maybe if you weren’t so sloppy, you would take less hits.” He raises an eyebrow, looking down his nose at Kirito. “Afterall, I’m not the one Lady Asuna wasted a precious item on.”

“It’s Commander Asuna,” Kirito corrects for what feels like the hundredth time. “And I’d like to see a snivelling coward like yourself tell her she made a mistake to her face.” 

“Typical of a villain such as yourself,” the taller knight sneers. “So entitled, despite all the death you’ve caused. Do you think that Heathcliff would still favour Asuna if he knew she was fucking a murderer?” 

With a snarl, Kirito lifts the Elucidator, only for Godree to leap in between them with his hands raised. “Gentlemen, please! We are all knights of the same oath!” he shakes his head. “This is no way for us to conduct ourselves.” 

Fury pounds in his ears as Kiriot bares his teeth at Kuradeel, violet eyes flashing. “Insult her again,” he growls, “and you’ll get a reminder of just how dangerous I can be.” 

Asuna won’t thank him for picking fights over her honour, Kirito is well aware. But the dark, hateful thing in his chest pulses with rage at every word that Kuradeel speaks, Kirito’s fingers itching for his sword.  _ You’d just be proving him right, _ he reminds himself, forcing his grip on the Elucidator to relax.  _ Just get through the day. Just fight the damn monsters. _

He turns on his heel, scarlet coat snapping around his ankles as he walks away. “We’re wasting daylight.” 

_ Just fight the damn monsters. _

**⚔**

Power, in all its forms, is a dangerous thing.  _ Absolute power corrupts absolutely. _ Kirito is familiar with power of all sorts- he has surrounded himself with powerful people, knowingly or not. There’s Asuna, beautiful and deadly and influential; wielding her power with all the precision of a surgeon with a patient on the table. Then there’s Lisbeth, who is powerful for the strength she lends others, and more powerful for the fact that she could just as easily cut them all off from. Kirito’s own power resides in his raw strength- the reputation of the Black Swordsman: solo frontliner, champion of floor seventy-four precedes him for better or for worse. 

Guilds are an easy way for those who are powerless on their own to gain power, and to gain the power that influence affords. The Knights of Blood quietly rose through the ranks until they became nigh-synonymous with the rulers of Aincrad. Led by the kind but brilliant Heathcliff, the beautiful and fierce Asuna at his side, the image of a battle-born king and queen offered itself at their feet. It was only natural for the people trapped inside of Sword Art Online to seek out rules- most people aren’t fighters. The K.o.B came, and offered them protection and order, and for the most part, the people of Aincrad gratefully accepted it.

For the most part does not mean all. Silica, despite her age, refused to be corralled with all the other children on a lower level. Argo, despite her knowledge, refused to sell herself to any specific guild, keeping the playing field even.

Kirito, despite his strength, had not wanted the responsibility for others on his shoulders. 

He hates the stupid red coat. It’s Heathcliff’s idea of a joke, or a way to mock him, or even worse: some perverse mark of ownership. Kirito is expected to come when called, to do what he’s told, to not cause problems or tarnish the reputation of the guild. 

He’s finding the last part the most difficult. After nearly an entire day spent with Kuradeel and Godfree, Kirito is starting to wonder just how mad Asuna would be if he went running to Argo. Kuradeel is foul, and the almost pleasant chit-chat that Godfree had provided has taken on an edge that’s making something in Kirito’s brain twitch with anger every time he says Lisbeth’s name. Kirito knows their type- they had sought out the guild for any small amount of power that would be afforded to them to abuse. It’d be easy for Argo to spread the word for him, to mix gossip and rumors into her trade of secrets. Between the two of them, Kirito and Argo could bring the K.o.B crumbling to the ground. 

_ Oh _ , he realizes, cutting down a giant scorpion.  _ This is a test. _ Does his loyalty to Asuna outweigh his own morals? Is protecting her more important than warning the people about creeps like Kuradeel and Godfree? Will Kirito sell himself out to the K.o.B just because he loves her?

“Great job!” Godfree grins at him. Kirito doesn’t smile back.

“It’s late,” he says instead, “we should start on our way back.” 

“Scared of a little dark, are you?” Kuradeel jeers, smirking at him. Kirito scowls back.

“My contract doesn’t require overtime,” he replies flatly. “I was told to fight and level until sundown, and the sun is going down. Bam, orders followed, my work here is done.” 

Kuradeel heaves an over dramatic sigh, and Kirito wrestles with the urge to punch him as hard as he can. “We’ll rest for a moment and then return,” Kuradeel commands, tossing a water canteen to Godfree.

After the shorter knight takes a long swig, he passes the canteen to Kirito encouragingly. Kirito begrudgingly accepts, lifting the bottle to his lips to drink. The first drops are sliding down his throat when Godfree shudders, knees giving out as he collapses to the ground. Kirito coughs as much of the water as he can up, but the 《PARALYZED》 status effect flashes on his HUD despite is efforts.

“Fuck,” he chokes from between gritted teeth, legs buckling as he loses his balance and tumbles to the ground. “Kuradeel, what the hell?” 

Kuradeel just smiles down at him, a sinister stretch of his mouth as he walks towards Godfree, drawing his sword. The slick hiss of metal raises the hairs on the back of Kirito’s neck, Godfree looking at him with panic in his eyes, the dire realization of what’s happening setting in.

“Sorry, Godfree,” Kuradeel says, voice lacking it’s usual haughty tone. “Just following my orders.” Kirito watches the other man shatter into pieces, fragments of light bouncing off the ground and casting an eerie glow over Kuradeel’s smile. “You know,” he says conversationally, leaning down to pick up Godfree’s Starforge sword, “I never really liked him.” 

“Go to hell,” Kirito manages to grit out. Every muscle in his body is stiff and tight, locked into place by whatever poison was in the water. Kuradeel just laughs at him, cackle rattling off the high walls of the canyon.

“So brave,” he mocks, dragging his sword along the ground. “The Black Swordsman, his tongue as sharp as those pretty little blades.” He pauses, standing over Kirito, backlit by the orange glow of the setting sun. “Not so strong anymore, are you?” 

Godfree’s blade slams into his leg just above the knee, nearly severing it as Kuradeel drives it down through virtual flesh and bone. It  _ hurts _ , not as bad as a real sword to the leg would, but enough to draw a choked-off scream from Kirito’s lips. In safe zones, wounds like this won’t hurt, and the adrenaline of battle has always kept him from succumbing to the false signals sent to his nervous system. This is different. This feels  _ real _ , and dangerous, and Kirito is scared. 

“Maybe I should take your leg off,” Kuradeel muses, digging the blade a little deeper. “I wonder, will that HP regeneration of yours be able to keep up?” he shakes his head. “You know, I expected it to be harder to kill you. After so long, they finally put a hit on you, and I was lucky enough to nab the job!” Stepping back, he reaches for the high collar of his shirt, tugging the fabric down and turning his neck.

Inked on the skin is a little black coffin, grinning skull smiling down at Kirito. It’s a symbol that he knows, a symbol that sets every fibre of his being to  _ panic _ . “Laughing Coffin sends their regards.” 

Kirito forces his lips into as close of a sneer as he can despite the poison. “Wow,” he says, every word feeling like he’s speaking under water. “Laughing Coffin really… lowered their standards.”

It’s not his best insult, but it wipes the grin off of Kuradeel’s face well enough. “Don’t you ever get tired of running your mouth?” He asks, reaching for the blade impaled in Kirito’s leg. He closes his hand around the hilt, sending a jolt of pain through him. Kuradeel sneers down at him, malice glittering in his eyes. “Maybe this will shut you up.”

Red light spills from Kirito’s thigh, the lower section of his leg shattering into fragments of light just like Godfree’s body had. There’s no choked off cry this time, but rather a howl that pulls from his throat without permission or purpose, pain arcing through his body like fire. The scream echoes throughout the canyon, blood rushing in Kirito’s ears as Kuradeel drives the sword back through his other thigh.

“Better,” the assassin says, once Kirito’s screams have died off into pained, laboured breaths. There’s a distinct lack of  _ being _ where his leg used to be, some section of the game’s code severing the connection entirely. His health bar is orange, the frantic  _ blipblipblip _ of his regenerative ability fighting the steady increase of damage being done to him.

Kuradeel straightens once more, beginning to pace as he talks.  _ As he monologues _ , Kirito corrects internally, gritting his teeth.  _ Monologues give me time. _

“Personally, I wanted to kill your bitch of a girlfriend, first. Cut the head off of the beast, right? Frame you for the job, and then you’d be as good as dead and back to the status of a lowly murderer in no time.” The sun creeps lower in the sky, and Kirito forces his eyes to the blinking 《PARALYZED》 status effect. “But they insisted you be the first to go. They told me I could do it however I wanted, as long as you weren’t breathing by the end of the day.” He gestures to the darkening shadows, the setting sun. “It’s the end of the day, Sir Kirito.”

The blink of the status effect slows.  _ Come on _ , Kirito thinks, hopes, prays.  _ Come on! _

Kuradeel raises his sword, smiling down at Kirito. “Goodbye, Black Swordsman,” he says, the red of Kirito’s wounds painting him in horror-movie wickedness, gleaming along his blade. “I hope you have a good time in hell.” His sword comes down in a shining arc, and Kirito feels his limbs unlock.

Rather than cutting clean through Kirito’s neck, the blade cuts down through the meat of his shoulder, severing his arm neatly from his body. Another scream pulls from Kirito’s lips as he forces himself to keep moving, tugging the blade out of his thigh and scrambling backwards, his HP diving into the red. 

“Delaying the inevitable will just make it hurt more,” Kuradeel calls, stepping forwards. “Do you really think that you can fight me with only two limbs?”

Kirito drags himself upright, leaning on the Elucidator to keep himself on his feet- or foot, as it were. “‘S just a flesh wound,” he calls back. He’ll be the first to admit it- missing his left leg and right arm is not ideal for fighting a high-level murderer hellbent on killing him. He is, in a word,  _ fucked _ . 

Kuradeel hefts his blade. “So be it,” he sighs, like he’s scolding a petulant child. 

The boom that rings through the canyon reverberates through Kirito’s teeth, and for a moment, he thinks that Akihiko Kayaba himself must have decided that he deserves to live, dropping a rockslide or something on Kuradeel at the last possible moment. But there’s no rockslide, no enemy spawning- just a flash of white and red and cold blue light.

Asuna strikes like her namesake, moving fast enough that her rapier slices through Kuradeel’s armor like paper. The strike sends the man skittering back, his face contorting in rage as he scowls at her.

“You were right,” Kirito manages to call, pitching his voice to carry as he lets himself slide back down to the ground. “You probably should have killed her first.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kirito gets stabbed count: 6  
> asuna's fucking pissed! who's excited for the next chapter, which will be from her perspective? i know i am :3
> 
> as always, thank you for reading + please feel free to leave comments or come shout with me on [my tumblr!](https://lovecorpse.tumblr.com) next chapter will be in two weeks from today <3

**Author's Note:**

> **THIS IS NOT A KIRITO x SUGUHA FIC. IT IS TAGGED KIRITO & SUGUHA FOR THEIR PLATONIC SIBLING RELATIONSHIP. I DON'T SUPPORT, WRITE, OR CONDONE INCEST, AND I NEVER WILL. PLEASE STOP ASKING/COMMENTING ABOUT IT.**
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> now! hello! thank you for choosing to read my fic! i sincerely hope you've enjoyed the first chapter & that you'll enjoy the rest of them as they are posted.  
> a few notes-  
> \- i don't own Sword Art Online or any of the characters, they belong to Reki Kawahara, blah, blah, intellectual property. this is a work of fanfic made first and foremost in admiration of the concept of SAO.  
> \- me writing this fic doesn't mean that i've given up on my other SAO fic- it's simply on hiatus while this takes the lead!  
> \- if you like my writing, and want to support me so i have more time for it, you should check out my [tumblr!](http://lovecorpse.tumblr.com)  
> \- this is something i'm doing for fun, because i've found several things i consider "flaws" in the SAO universe + characterization as it exists in the anime. i have not read the light novels, nor do i plan to. if you disagree with the ideas/concepts i am introducing here, feel free to stop reading my fic!  
> \- and finally, this fic should update every two weeks (so, every other sunday, new zealand time.) it will cover the events of the aincrad arc of SAO, and will hopefully have sequel fics to cover later arcs. 
> 
> thank you so much for reading! see you soon!


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